Dark Storm Rising
by Mairemor
Summary: The second fiction of the Northmen saga is an epic tale of love, passion, vendetta, battle, and destiny. Journey with the Northman clan as they seek to overcome a great evil that threatens the world as we know it. AU,many OCs, some OOC
1. Chapter 1

Dark Storm Rising

Chapter One--The Rose is Mine

_**A/N Oh boy, oh boy! We're starting the second part of the Northman trilogy. Are you excited? I know that I am! Gigantic thanks to all of you who read the Northman story arc! Thanks to my preternaturally talented betas, AmaZen, Cassandra Mello, & Konfetti. Their eagle eyes and perceptive suggestions make my prose better than I could ever make it solo! There are links on my profile page for Brahms' Violin Concerto in D and for Joni Mitchell's song. Since CH affiliated the Fae with the Irish, and that's my background. [LOL, Mairemor means "Big Mary"] I have my Fae speaking in Irish. "Ta si go h'**_**_álainn_****_, _****_geal agus milis!_**_**Tá mé buíoch díot!**_**_"_****_ means "She is beautiful, bright and sweet. I'm grateful to you! To which Niall answers, "You're welcome!" _****,_"__min lilla flicka"_**_**means my little one in Swedish. More Swedish (towards the end) "I'll be alright Dad .Stan will take care of me." "As you wish darling. You've truly become a woman tonight." Oh, as you may know this fic is AU (the kiddos right??) and slightly OOC my Stan is straight and he lika da women--one woman in particular **_

_** As always, CH's characters are hers and hers alone. Adele and Kirsten are mine and mine alone.**_

**Oh you are in my blood like holy wine  
Oh and you taste so bitter but you taste so sweet  
Oh I could drink a case of you  
I could drink a case of you darling  
And I would still be on my feet  
Oh I'd still be on my feet**

**Joni Mitchell**

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In her sapphire blue evening gown, eighteen year old Adele Northman, former child prodigy and virtuoso violinist, stood out like a precious jewel against the formal black and whites of the first and second violins. Although she was barely five foot four, Adele carried herself with a natural grace and confidence that made her seem much taller. As the first strains of Brahms' Violin Concerto in D swelled, Felipe De Castro drank in the sight of this petite, exquisite flower as she waited to begin her solo, eyes slightly closed, bow and violin poised.

Felipe had known Adele from birth, and in the entire world there was no other being that he could honestly say that he loved. It was impossible _not_ to love Del. In his mortal years, he would have written a sonnet proclaiming her astonishing beauty: the delicate, perfect oval of her quiet face, the soft rose of her sweet, full lips, her pretty Grecian nose, and soft cheeks that were all rose and pearl. She was a delicate, more finely drawn version of her gorgeous mother; she was a blush rose just opening its first petals to an admiring world. Tonight, long hair that rippled down her back like a river of pale gold, was pulled into a classic chignon, accentuating the perfection of her neck.

He watched the pulse in her throat hungrily as she inclined her head toward the chin rest and prepared to perform. Adele's petite and perfect form and high, creamy breasts fit his stature perfectly. When she attended an event upon his arm, all eyes were upon them. She would make the perfect mate and a magnificent queen. If she chose him, he would provide for her every whim. Del's magic and her connections to Alfheim would also strengthen his kingdom immensely, and her powerful blood would strengthen him as well. He suspected that, like her mother, she could sometime read vampire minds, and that she had other powers as yet unrevealed. They would explore them together, even as he explored every inch of her.

An electric thrill passed through him as Del looked directly at him. His dark eyes smoldered and sent her a private message. _You are the one, you and only you. _

Del's allure transcended the physical. Her deep and sensitive artist's spirit belied the indomitable strength born of her father's blood. Like both of her parents, Adele could be stubborn at times! For reasons beyond De Castro's comprehension, it appeared that she had chosen the Texan who remained uncouth and barbaric, even after thirteen hundred years of existence. Compared to Felipe's flawless Mediterranean beauty, Stan's square jaw and rugged features appeared brutish. It was true that Adele could bear Stan's children, and that Felipe's five hundred years still rendered him sterile, but he was willing to wait.

Besides, he suspected that Adele's magical register was so powerful, that she could bear children for him even now. He and Adele had nothing but time, and she would be as warm and beautiful in a millennium as she was today. After the performance, he would speak to her again. Should she accept Stan's offer, nothing would be finalized until the actual ceremony was witnessed and blood was formally exchanged. Felipe knew that Adele loved him. Not in the same way that he loved her, but he was certain that he could change that innocent affection into something much more powerful in time.

***************************************

Stan Davis sat in his private box in the Austin Symphony Music Hall watching the beautiful young woman on the stage below. Long, tawny lashes brushed her cheeks as she bent and swayed where the music took her. Her slender, agile fingers flew through the rapid scale passages while her bow became a magical wand releasing the broken chords, rhythmic variations, and multiple stops of Brahms' formidable allegro non troppo.

Stanislaus Zielinski had been in Leipzig, Germany in 1879 and had listened with appreciative amazement as Joseph Joachin, Brahms' friend and Stan's violin instructor, had introduced the masterpiece. He loved this violin concerto, and no one played it with a fiercer passion than Adele Northman, So much of her character was tightly contained by necessity in her world; it was only in her music and with him that she seemed to relax and feel truly at ease. Stan knew that Del's ability to still herself into serenity was a carefully cultivated survival device.

Adele could not walk safely in this world without veiling her true appearance, her scent, her delicate Fae ears, and her magical register, with powerful wards. Stan understood, as much as any being could, the worlds to which Adele was joined. They were as real to him as Midgard. He accepted, even reveled in the knowledge that their wyrds had been bound from the first moment he had laid eyes upon her. A shared love of Bluegrass, Cajun, and country music had brought them together. The uncomplicated melodies relaxed them both, and both enjoyed an easy camaraderie with the other musicians, so different from the formality of the concert hall.

Discovering Stan's monthly bluegrass, country and old time session, had been the highlight of her fourteenth summer. As the years had passed, Del had found in Stan and in the music, a peaceful haven apart from the politics and expectations that weighed her down so heavily. In Del, Stan perceived what many missed. Beneath her stillness was a vitality and overpowering energy so palpable that his vampiric magics had reached across and touched her, easing the tensions that made her life in Midgard increasingly difficult. There was a bond between them, a unique bond born of their combined magics.

The audience was absolutely transfixed as the music swelled, and Adele's bow swept through the intricate cadenza, her angelic face glowing with an ecstasy Stan yearned to bring forth while he made love to her--if she would have him. At that moment, lost in the music, there were no shadows across her heart and Stan's spirit soared, knowing that she was blissfully happy and fully alive. Music removed the burdens of constraint and her spirit soared as well, until Stan could almost detect warmth flowing through her. The first movement ended and the audience erupted into applause. The very air seemed full of electric, contagious excitement. This was the magic of Del.

She was utterly exquisite and totally unaware of the captivating picture she made when she smiled and bowed. Her fern-green eyes shone with a steadfast serenity as they sought and captured his, bringing a soft and loving curve to his lips. _Del, my Del! _ Stan gloried briefly in their shared moment. She had made her decision. He knew what her answer would be when he asked her to accept his pledge. When Del had gone backstage, he felt De Castro's presence. Their eyes locked. If De Castro tried to interfere, Stan would show him no mercy.

*****************************************

Fae lord Ciaran Ó Máille's appreciative glance swept over the young goddess onstage. Adele's eyes became contemplative as the second movement's woodwinds presented the slow pastoral theme. Her lithe body leaned into the gentle music as if she pressed against a lover, while the fluid motions of her bow ornamented the achingly sweet theme which hovered above the orchestral strings. Emotions played across her face as she launched into the stormy middle section of the adagio. As the intensity of the music built, she abandoned her wards, allowing a hint of her clear Fae essence to shine forth.

Ciaran leaned back and, suppressing a sigh, sent his thought to the Prince, _Ta si go h__'__álainn, geal agus milis!__Tá mé buíoch díot!_

Niall nodded, his gaze resting tenderly upon his great-great granddaughter,_ Tá fáilte romhat, Ciaran!_

Adele would make a wonderful mate for Ciaran, and would secure the Brigants' ties to their powerful kinsmen, the Ó Máille Fae. Niall dismissed Adele's seeming attachment to the hulking king of Texas. She was little more than a child after all, and had always seemed compliant enough. Over the years, he had carefully schooled her in her duties; she understood that her first duty was to her Fae kinsmen, her first allegiance was owed to the Brigants!

Besides, these vampire kings could hardly be trusted. Even Eric knew that. There were many issues upon which they disagreed, but when it came to Adele's safety, they had reached an accord. If the kings and their minions began to brawl over Adele, he and Eric had agreed that Niall would remove her immediately to the Fae realm, and then transport her back to her home in Midgard. He had given his word, and the word of a Fae lord was true. If his lovely kinswoman happened to make the acquaintance of her future mate upon the way, well, certainly there was no harm in that!

*********************

Eric sat in the parquet circle, far enough back to be unobtrusive, and close enough to have Del off of the stage in seconds should an emergency arise. He knew that Stan's vamps were guarding Adele, as were some of Felipe's for that matter. But if trouble erupted between the two kings, neither could be trusted to protect Del first. So, Pam was backstage watching the performance and guarding Adele from there. The heavy security had become necessary following a mad Serbian vampire's attempt to abduct Kirsten last month. Eric's mouth twitched with amusement as he recalled how he had found the prospective abductor.

He and some of his retinue arrived within minutes, only to find that Sookie's hands were still sparking with enough energy to fell a horse, Pam had already ripped out the Serbian fool's throat and Kirsten, after spilling his guts, was in the process of beheading him. Well, Eric had always trained his women to be proactive. Ten years of training with the Britlingens, Clovache and Batanya, as well as training with vampire and Fae martial arts masters, had guaranteed that Adele and Kirsten could defend themselves. His girls were now formidable opponents.

The threat of abduction however was not amusing in the least, and Eric was in a difficult spot. His king, Adele's guardian, wanted her and it was obvious from his presence that he would speak to her tonight. Stan, a friend of many centuries, already regarded Adele as his, and would undoubtedly respond with force should Felipe interfere. Eric's fangs ran out slightly as he considered the threat to his daughter's welfare.

If either king tried to abduct Adele, a war could very well erupt. It had happened in the past when powerful kings desired these rare women. Though Kirsten loved a good battle, Adele would not fight unless threatened. Should Stan or Felipe abduct her, Eric was not at all sure that Adele would resist these men whom she trusted and loved so innocently.

He turned his attention back to Adele as she launched into the virtuosic strains that would earn her a standing ovation. Brahms' Concerto in D was one of Del's signature pieces, one that he had heard her practice and perform for years. It still thrilled and astonished him that this magnificent and refined young woman was the daughter of a former Viking warrior. Eric had always felt drawn to Del. There was a deep pool of calm within her where his energetic soul found rest.

From the moment he first held her, Eric had felt an acute need to protect and shield Adele from all of the evil and brutality that existed across her worlds. It was an impossible task, but, so far, he had kept her safe and had trained her well. Her physical fragility was deceptive, and she was strong in ways no human could imagine. Adele was his most precious possession, and he would not willingly part with her unless he was certain that that her mate had the power and determination to protect, love, and support her for the duration of their long lives.

Unlike Kirsten, Del could choose or refuse a vampire mate. But she had an immutable obligation to produce a Fae heir for the Brigant line. Any vampire Del might choose would have to accept this and be honor bound to allow it. Stanislaus Zielinski was well suited for Del; he loved her enough to risk his life for her, and would accept this harsh wyrd in order to make her his eternal mate. But would Del choose him?

Eric rejoiced in Adele's artistry as her bow danced joyfully over the strings of her Amati. As the lyrical theme surged to its completion, her total and passionate command of the intricate phrasing and overall thrust of this masterwork held her audience enthralled. The music was her lover, and when Adele played she surrendered herself completely. The audience was spellbound by the music she conjured from taut horse hair, gut strings, thin wood, and resonant space. When the audience replied with a minute long standing ovation, Eric knew that his daughter would soon be considered one of the greatest violinists in the world.

Before he returned to Shreveport, he must be the first to speak to her; Pam would make sure of it. The rivals could wait. He would be watching until he knew her mind, and that she was safe from all harm.

***********************************

As she curtsied to the audience, shook hands with the conductor and first violinist, and accepted the huge bouquet of blush roses, Adele felt entirely spent, and yet, oddly at ease. Four sets of preternatural eyes watched her. She loved each of the men to whom they belonged, but only one held the key to her soul. When she had completed her encore rendition of Paganini's Caprice No. 2, she bowed once more, exchanged brief pleasantries with the conductor, and headed for the wings where Pam waited.

Pam enfolded her in her cool embrace, "You were spectacular as usual darling! I heard the critics chattering. They have nothing but praise for you!"

Adele chucked, "Well, at least that's good news!"

She linked arms with Pam as they waited for the elevator in companionable silence. There had been enough drama already, and tonight, she was sure that there was much more to come. It had begun yesterday with her violin instructor's written confession:

_Dearest, I have always loved you and you have exceeded my greatest expectations as an artist. Yet, I cannot bear to watch you perform when I know that your love will be given to another tomorrow night. Being away from you will break my soul, I know this! I do not wish to cause you pain, but you are ready to spread your wings and soar without my assistance. I will be in touch when I can bear to be in your presence one again, my darling. _

_Your loving instructor and fondest admirer, _

_Ginette Neveu._

Sookie had held her while she had sobbed after reading the note. Ginette, a leading violinist of the early 20th century and a fairly young vampire, had been her instructor since Adele was four. Ginette had attended almost every concert Adele had performed, and now she was gone.

Sookie had handed Pam the note, one eyebrow raised, "How'd we miss this by a mile?"

Pam had only glanced at the note, before throwing it down with a scowl, "She's weak, and selfish! Hah! And to think Eric thought that Adele would be safer with a woman! Well, I could have told him …"

All that mattered to Adele was that she had lost her closest artistic companion, a woman whom she had grown to love as a friend. Now, she would, quite possibly lose Felipe, her beloved guardian, as well. He was not in the least likely to accept her decision as final. In her presence, he was always loving, even playful, but she knew that the darkness that was Felipe's vampiric inheritance might lead him to seek a terrible revenge, if he felt that she had scorned him. It was hard for Adele to believe that Felipe might do this, yet she was a Daughter of the Blood; she understood the nature of the men who loved her so fiercely.

Eric joined them almost as soon as she and Pam entered the room. With a flick of her fingers, Adele warded the space against eavesdroppers while Pam guarded the door.

Eric bent and kissed Adele's forehead as he engulfed her in an embrace. He then stepped back and regarded her fondly, "Are you well min lilla flicka?"

Del forced a smile, "I'm fine pappa. It was a good concert."

Eric pinned her with his gaze.

"You know I'm not talking about that kara du. Tonight, if there is the slightest hint of trouble, I'll have you out of here."

The fine lines of her eyebrows drew together, as she protested, "Pappa, it'll be fine! Pam's here and Stan would never let anything happen to me."

Eric eyes bored into hers, "Let's hope, for his sake, that he keeps you safe, in all respects! I know your heart in this matter. You must_ not_ let him taste your blood, not yet, not until you are formally pledged and wed. This is matter of honor, min lilla en. Stanislaus will understand, despite his desires," he paused embarrassed, "or even yours. When I see you're safely on your way with Pam and Stan's retinue, I'll return to Shreveport on a charted flight. "

She knew all of this! It was as if the men in her life couldn't decide whether they wished to treat her as a grown woman or a child! And yet, the matter before her tonight had everything to do with her coming of age; there was no question that, when it came to her body, it was Adele, the woman, they desired.

She took her father's big, cool hand in her small, warm one, "I promise that I won't dishonor myself or our family. Pappa you know that!"

Eric eyes blazed into hers. His voice was uncompromising, yet oddly gentle, "Yes, I do." He kissed her softly on the cheek and was out the door with vampire speed.

Pam rolled her eyes at Adele and patted her hand, "Men!" An authoritative knock sounded at the door. Pam looked back over her shoulder with an arched eyebrow, her voice heavy with sarcasm, "And the night is still young!"

When Pam opened the door, Felipe De Castro regarded her coolly, "Leave us!"

Pam glanced once at Adele in warning, and then left without a word.

Before Adele could protest, she was in Felipe's arms. Instinctively, her arms wrapped around him. His voice simmered with barely checked passion as he lifted her chin so that she met his eyes.

"Adela, mi querida. Please think _very_ carefully before you make your choice. This is a life bond. There will be no breaking it, even after a century! You are still very young and innocent. I would not have you make an unwise choice."

A warm tear rolled down Adele's cheek and Felipe brushed it away with his lips. She could hardly speak above a whisper, as she called him by her private name for him, "Feliz! I don't want to cause anyone pain, least of all you! "

Felipe's voice broke huskily, "No, cruelty is not in your nature, but you _are_ cruel nonetheless. Adela, do you not love me?"

Adele strove to conquer her involuntary reactions to Felipe's gentle, loving look. "Feliz, You know I love you…but…"

She paused, and a bitter jealousy stirred inside of him and with it, rage. Adele should be _his_; it was not unheard of for a guardian to mate with a Daughter of the Blood. He should take her back to Nevada with him tonight. Enough of his retinue was here that he could have her back in Nevada and pledged to him in less than an hour.

Like the many takeovers he had staged, there might be a battle, but eventually everyone would accept that Adele was his. Once he'd made love to her, she would submit to her new circumstances. There was, after all, affection between them, and he was a consummate lover who would give her pleasure beyond her wildest imaginings. The thought of claiming her virginal body sent shivers of desire racing through him.

Adele gazed at him with troubled eyes. She'd caught a flash of his thoughts, and his face and body told the rest of the tale. "No, Feliz! You'll cause a war…hundreds and hundreds would die. And my love for you isn't…like that. "

Felipe's arms tightened about her fiercely, his fangs fully extended, his eyes glowing with a silvery light.

"Oh, but querida, it will be! Come away with me tonight, and I will show you what love truly is!"

Just then, the door exploded inward, Stan burst in, his fangs hyper extended in battle fury. Her father was right behind him with fire in his eyes. Stan's chest rumbled with a fearsome growl. Both Nevada and Texas vamps hovered outside the broken door, fangs extended and ready to battle. As she gazed with horror at the men she loved, Adele's world tipped sideways. How could everything have gone so terribly wrong?

Adele froze, hoping to avert bloodshed by appearing calm. Then, Felipe slowly lifted Adele's hand and, sensuously and deliberately, kissed the center of her palm and the pulsing blue veins of her wrist. Adele gasped audibly. This was a lover's caress and more, a declaration of ownership in their society.

Stan advanced, growling, while Eric yanked Adele out of Felipe's grasp as Pam suddenly flanked her. The king ignored them all as if they were insects. His eyes darkened as he held Adele's gaze, "Think well, mi querida!"

All three men were ready to kill. Eric's eyes held a cold brilliance that made Del shiver as he poised himself to defend or attack. Stan's huge fists blocked Felipe's path and the vamps outside tensed for combat. Adele shot Stan a pleading look. There would be war tonight if this continued. But she couldn't say "allow my king to pass," without affronting Felipe, which would only escalate this mother of all pissing contests.

With a cold chill, Del suddenly realized that this was an elaborate game involving more than a passion to possess her. Vampire kings were constantly maneuvering. It was indeed a game of possession, but Adele suspected that territory beyond that of her body was involved in this dispute.

For a terrible moment, Adele was sure that all hell would break loose. She felt her great-great-grandfather's presence nearby, and knew that if he removed her, a battle was inevitable.

Her eyes locked upon Felipe's, while praying for words that would be kind, but honest and explicit. It was not in Adele's nature to lie to him, and Felipe knew that.

She kept her voice gentle as she replied, "My lord, I will consider what you have said. As my guardian and my king, I am honored by your affection for me and that you have expressed such concern for my well-being."

Felipe's proud, cold features softened slightly as he regarded Adele. "For your sake alone querida, I will let this pass - for now."

He would allow the soft steel of his words to twist in her mind. He considered that a gentle vengeance for her vacillation.

His beautiful lip curled with contempt as he regarded Stan, "A noble daughter should not be exposed to such vulgarity."

He made an almost imperceptible sign to his retinue, two of whom flanked him immediately. Then, Felipe whirled and left the room without another word.

Stan's nostrils flared as his eyes coolly scanned Adele's body. Although she was aware of Felipe's lingering scent, she pretended not to understand Stan's look, and tried to collect her thoughts.

Eric's heart ached for Adele. He tightened his lips to prevent a stream of ancient, toe curling invective from escaping his mouth. How dare these ancient kings abandon reason and endanger the woman that they both claimed to love!

He watched with silent pride as Adele mastered herself and forced her lips into a curved, stiff smile. She addressed him firmly and gently, 'Det ordnar sig pappa. Stan tar hand om mig."

Eric smiled warmly, and brushed Adele's face gently with one finger, "Som du vill min älskling. Du har verkligen blivit en kvinna ikväll."

Eric nodded curtly to Stan, his eyes hard. "You almost lost her tonight. I am entrusting my precious daughter into your care. Keep her in safety and honor until we meet again."

Stan nodded, "I accept your trust and the honor which it confers."

A great tension vanished from the air.

Adele fought to keep her face appropriately solemn as the two master vampires completed their mead hall chat embellished with the appropriate etiquette. She knew that Pam was fighting not to roll her eyes or snort. But she also knew that they had just barely prevented a war with Felipe.

Eric rested his hands lightly upon Adele's shoulders. "I'll see you soon. Remember what we have discussed." He turned to Pam, "Pam, if you'll come with me for just a moment?" Pam nodded silently, and they left the room.

Before Adele had left home, her mother had told her to follow her heart. Sookie had laughed, "Of course, you have to_ know _your heart first. But you're not as stubborn as me, Del. I think that you know what it's saying already. Follow your bliss honey."

In an instant she was where she wanted to be, engulfed in Stan's arms, inhaling his comforting scent.

Stan held her close, replacing Felipe's scent with his own. He ran his fingers through her hair, scattering the hair pins so that her golden mane tumbled down to the small of her back.

He cupped her exquisite face and kissed her fragrant hair, her forehead, her eyes, and, very gently, captured her soft lips.

She gazed up into Stan's smiling face, which shone with the transcendent light of triumph, and relaxed into his arms, feeling a bottomless peace and satisfaction as sweet understanding overwhelmed her.

In his arms, she felt that some unbearable burden had been removed from deep inside her, and she saw the path that her heart dictated with absolute clarity.

"The limos are at the side doors Del."

"Then, take me home Stan. It's time we went home."

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_**Well, what do you think? Did Adele make the right decision? Please give me the gift of your review ! At this point in the story Del, is merely obligated to produce a Fae child for the Brigants, but that obligation may change as other forces come into play. Thanks again for reading and PLEASE review. This is an intricate story(LOL I seem to like doing that to you) and your feedback in invaluable. *hugs*  
**_


	2. Chapter 2

Dark Storm Rising Chapter 2

A/N _Some of you had questions about the relationships between the characters. Although Adele is young, she is not a human girl and she is not pure Fae. She is a Daughter of the Blood, and the vampire bloodlines run in her as well . Her world, and what's expected of her, as well as what is acceptable, are different. CH had a teenage Were girl mate with a middle aged-Were with no love involved, so I'm not really off canon here. I don't favor one character over another. (LOL unless it's Quinn:-P) Actually, I added more Adele to my original drafts, because Kirsten had so much face time. Eric loves Kirsten deeply, fiercely, just as I love the daughter in my brood that is the most like me. But, opposite poles attract and like poles repel. Don't worry, you'll be seeing plenty of Kirsten, Sookie, and Eric really soon. Thanks for all of your reviews, for picking me as a favorite author or DSR as a favorite story, or for putting us on your author/story alert. __**Mo ghra (pronounced /graw/),**__**mo stóirín**__**(pronounced /stooreen/) **means my love, my darling in Irish, the Fae-speak in this fic : )_

CH"s characters are her intellectual property. Adele, Kirsten, and the concept of Daughters of the Blood are mine.

Giant thanks to AmaZen, my amazing, eagle-eyed beta!

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_**Will you stay with me, will you be my love  
Among the fields of barley  
We'll forget the sun in his jealous sky  
As we lie in the fields of gold**_

_**See the west wind move like a lover so  
Upon the fields of barley  
Feel her body rise when you kiss her mouth  
Among the fields of gold**_

Sting--_Fields of Gold_

_************************************_

Adele snuggled against Stan as the limos purred the thirty miles down US Route 183 toward Lockhart. She dozed as they turned off of the main highway and drove another twenty-five miles of back roads, then onto the packed gravel roads that led to the gates of the Rocking W, Stan's two thousand acre ranch dedicated to the preservation of Texas Longhorns.

Adele knew the ranch well. When they were fifteen, on a family vacation, she and Kirsten experienced their first round up and cattle drive on The Rocking W. They loved riding across the wide, open landscape carpeted with buffalo grass and Texas bluebonnets, trailing the spotted, bony backed Longhorns toward an endless horizon. Other than the multi-hued Longhorns, there were turkey, deer, quail, coyotes, and even wild hogs. A wary, ancient magic permeated the landscape. One night when the moon waxed toward full, Adele was sure that she heard the haunting music of a wooden flute echoing through the hilly, northern section of the ranch.

Adele was entranced, "It's something beautiful, something good. It's calling to me!"

Sookie and Eric had exchanged a worried glance, "How do you know this min älskling?"

Adele had looked at Kirsten, thoughts flashing between them. Sometimes it was so hard to put what they felt into words!

Kirsten shrugged, "I don't feel it as much as Del, but it's like a warm wave…comforting."

Del chimed in, "And there's a magical register, beautiful and calming, like clear cool water, like mist. This is a holy person! Not Aesir, someone else. Please, let's go find out who it is!"

Her parents wouldn't give in, and although Eric scouted the area, the presence had disappeared.

That music still haunted her, and Adele vowed that someday, given the chance, she would discover its source.

Adele considered the experiences of that roundup a great gift. When the world started to close in upon her, she would conjure the silences broken only by the squeak of leather, a calf's bawl, and wind ruffling a sea of grass--where existence spiraled down to the pace of her quarter horse. She had loved supper on the range served chuck wagon style for the human and supe ranch hands. Stan was there every night, until he had to rest, checking the herd, talking and joking with the men. Afterwards, he'd pull out his fiddle, while some of the others fetched a guitar or a mandolin, and they'd have music under the stars.

*************

Siobhan, Stan's second in command had come to the huge, wrought iron gate, with its Longhorn crest, to welcome her king. She was sure that by the end of the night the kingdom would prepare to welcome its new queen. The union of this young Daughter of the Blood and her king was a love match, a rare occurrence among their kind. She had served Stanislaus for nearly a century. She'd watched him throw himself in to his kingship and, later, into the ranch's longhorn breeding program. There had been women, of course, both supernatural and human, but Stan hadn't loved them. In Adele Northman, Stan had found true love, and Siobhan rejoiced in her king's happiness.

Stan had informed her of Felipe's maneuver to win Adele; security had been doubled on the ranch and while they traveled. As the limos pulled into the gate and paused, she bowed and waved them on. She was at the gate as a matter of respect, and to show her king that she had supervised all of the security and preparation he had ordered. His Appaloosa stallion, Iron Age, was saddled and ready to ride and his surprise for Adele had been carefully arranged as well. The sky was clear and the moon was nearly full. It would be a fine night.

The limos crossed the southern part of the ranch's flat and rolling terrain, past the windmills , cattle pens and a spring-fed pond, to the higher hill country of the northern quarter. They then drove past the stables, and up the steep road to the king of Texas' palatial "ranch house," built and planned by a Texas oil baron in the 1930s with no regard for cost.

Stan had completely restored the huge estate to its original glory. A lush lawn, huge towering trees, an engineered stocked lake, and a magnificent garden proclaimed his status. Stan would have preferred a simpler home, but a king needed a mansion built to impress and entertain. The grand entry hall held a grand piano and large sitting areas swept up to an elegant spiral stairway. It was a house of vast dimensions, high beamed ceilings, warm woods and the subtle, muted colors of the Texas landscape. Siobhan was waiting when they arrived. Pam had discreetly taken the second limo with Eric's consent. Stan had given his word to treat Del honorably and Eric trusted that he would, especially on this night.

Stan brushed Adele's forehead with his lips and whispered in her ear, "Del, we're back. Wake up darlin'."

Adele's eyes fluttered open. She smiled up at him, putting her hand to her lips to cover a yawn. She felt absolutely at ease with Stan; she always had.

Stan's eyes met hers. "Are you rested enough to ride out with me for a spell?"

Adele stretched, arching her back like a kitten against his arm. Then, she pushed herself upright, unable to suppress the dizzying current racing through her. This was it!

"Sure! Just let me get changed into some jeans, a comfy shirt, and my Denver ass kickers and, I'll be ready to go."

Stan kissed Adele's hand, "I'll meet you on the side veranda after you change."

His smile softened his features and in that instant, Adele thought he was the handsomest man in the world.

Siobhan, who had arrived ahead of them, greeted them warmly. For the sake of propriety, she made sure that a floor separated Stan and Adele's sleeping quarters. She smiled to herself as she served Pam a heated True Blood in a Waterford wine glass. Stan and Del would ride out together on Iron Age tonight.

"I've put you two in the suites on the first floor. Your bags and violin are already there."

Adele's eyes sparkled as she took Pam's hand. "Oh, we know the way. Please, don't go to any more trouble for us! "

Pam smiled indulgently at Adele, "Go get changed, darling, I'm going to have a second blood and relax in the den."

This was Del's night. She was so innocent and young, so totally in love.

Del changed quickly then flipped her head forward and brushed her long hair into a ponytail. The moon was nearly full. Perhaps she would hear the flute player tonight! Shifters might change, but they posed no threat to Del or Stan, who were both formidable beings in their own right.

She stepped onto the veranda as moonlight cascaded down illuminating the delicate curves of her face and body.

Stan smiled with beautiful candor, "I must be the luckiest man in the world!"

Adele smiled shyly, "No, I'm the lucky one."

Iron Age snorted and tossed his head impatiently. Stan mounted, shifted forward, and reached down for Adele. As her reaching fingers touched his outstretched hand, the vital power of his magic awoke within her. She swung her leg over the saddle, sighed, encircled him with her arms, and relaxed against his broad back. He could feel the tension seeping out of her and murmured, "Let it go darlin', let it go…" as his magics reached out and soothed her.

Stan turned Iron Age toward rolling hills covered with groves of old cottonwoods and fields dotted with Indian Paintbrush and Bluebonnet. They rode in silence up the narrow trail as a cool, dry breeze whispered through the leaves. Gentle moonbeams illuminated woodlands, fields and hillsides turning the uplands into a mystical landscape, a world apart. They reached the peak of the hill, and Del gave a little cry of pleasure as she looked into a moonlit valley cut by a murmuring stream. The pure, unblemished perfume of spring wildflowers and sweet, new grass enveloped them.

Stan dismounted and tied Iron Age to a tree limb. He reached up to her, and Adele couldn't resist leaning down and running her fingers through Stan's dark, wavy hair. His big hands encircled her waist. As he lifted her down, Adele wrapped her arms around Stan and buried her face against his chest, her warm, soft curves molding to the contours of his hard, muscular body. His hand slipped to the small of her back pulling her even closer and her skin tingled as she felt his manhood stir. She looked up into his rugged face, so full of love and desire for her. Each time she was with him the pull was stronger. Stan's gaze traveled over Del's face and searched her eyes, until the silence was filled with a tremendous anticipation.

His hand trembled slightly as he cupped it against her cheek, " Del, you are the single, most important fact of my existence. Will you have me? Will you pledge to me, for now and always?"

Del 's eyes sparked with happy tears as she gently brushed Stan's cool cheek with her fingers, "Oh Stan, yes!" She looked at him hopefully, "If you'll have me…with all that means. My obligation, to the Brigants can't be changed Stan; it's my wyrd. The Lady Freya swore an oath to Prince Niall when he lent her Fae magic to strengthen my making. Can you bear this …will you still want me, afterwards?"

In answer, his lips met hers, lingering, savoring every moment. His tongue traced their soft fullness, sending shivers of desire racing through her. Then his cool tongue parted her warm lips and explored the sweetness of her mouth. They lost themselves in the intimacy and passion of their first true kiss. His hands explored the soft lines of her back, her waist , and her hips as she caressed the strong tendons in the back of his neck. She moaned as Stan planted open mouth kisses upon the hollow of her neck and collarbone. His fangs ran out as he held her against him, and she could feel his need.

If he had pressed her, Del knew that it would be very hard for her to keep her word to her father. She was both annoyed and relieved when Kirsten's voice rang through her head and gave her an excuse to pull back.

_Damn Del, you're putting me off my game! BLOCK if you're gonna get your freak on with Stan. I always block when Jacques and I are going strong. There are things I just don't want to know firsthand!_

Adele laced her fingers with Stan's and grinned mischievously_. _

_Sorry Kirs. Cut me a break! I don't have as much experience at this as you do!_

She could feel Kristen's mental poke across the ether.

_So, Del- ishious, is it a go?_

Del looked at Stan with radiant eyes .

_Oh, yeah!_

A ripple of irritation crackled through Del's mind.

_I don't know, Del. I'm glad you love him and he loves you, but I don't want to quit Jacques for some dude who's old as dirt. Those freaky fangbangers drooling over Faðir__ make me want to puke. But I'm happy if you are… _

Del snickered as a wave of sheer lust washed over her from Kirsten's direction.

_You're so clueless! See what I've spared you? Now, you know why I'm telling you to block! From now on, do like your baby sis does! Gotta go… Jacques's getting antsy! You be good, or Faðir_ _Dearest's going to be even more pissed off at you than he is at me! And make sure Stan gives you a fuckawesome rock! He's old enough and rich enough to get you something everyone will be talking about!_

Stan watched with fascination as thoughts, both joyful and mischievous, played across Del's face. This was the first time he'd observed Adele and Kirsten's telepathic chatter. He accepted their telepathic bond. It was a part of the magic that made her rare and priceless.

When the "conversation" ended, Stan took Adele's hand, gently kissed it , gathered her into his arms again, and brushed his lips softly against hers.

"I love you Del."

Del closed her eyes and breathed out, gradually allowing her ward to retreat just enough so that Stan was rewarded with the sweet scent of roses. No one outside of her immediate family had ever known the perfume of her Fae essence.

Stan's fangs slid out slightly as he pressed himself against her, burying his face in her hair and inhaling deeply, " Ah Del, so beautiful, so sweet! I want you so much!"

But he held back. She would be his soon; he could wait.

Del's fern-green eyes shimmered with magic as she gazed into Stan's.

"Soon Stan, soon! It won't be long now, and we'll be together. But, being with me is going to hard…I know…because of what's expected of me, but also because of what I am."

Her eyes searched his. "Can I give you a gift? It's mine to give, part of my magic. It will bond us without the shared blood. So there's no dishonor. We'll feel each other, and sometimes there'll be thoughts…maybe more than thoughts as time goes on, because my magics grow with time. I'll teach you to block, but when we want, we'll be together, even when we're apart. Do you trust me?"

Stan nodded without hesitation.

As she gathered her magic, a faint golden aura illuminated her body. A nimbus of light glimmered about her head.

"You're an angel!" Stan murmured in wonder.

Del shook her head, her lips quirking in a puckish grin." Oh, I'm no angel! Now, I have to ask the Fae question or the magic won't take. Stan, will you accept my gift as my pledge to you?"

Stan smiled softly. "You're a gift to me. I don't need anything else. But yes, my darlin', I'll accept your gift as a token of our pledge and because it brings us closer."

"Then bend down a bit. Walt Disney got some of this right in his movies! He had a bit of Fae blood, you know!"

Del placed her hands upon Stan's shoulders, stood on her tip-toes, and kissed his lips. Warmth coursed through him as the magic passed through Del to him, and they shared a smile as intimate as a kiss. She was there within him, a gentle presence, like a sweet perfume in the back of his mind. She touched his mind and he heard her silent invocation.

_Mo ghra_,_mo stóirín, awake to me!__ Between us we will walk a strong road where our hearts are warmed with love, so much love, when we become as one._

Del held Stan's hands and stepped back. Their eyes locked upon each other as she steadied his transition into this new magic. As powerful as he was, he was astonished by Adele's abilities. As his body assimilated the magic coursing through him, Stan began to understand the burden Adele carried. What strength she had to mask such power! He swore to his gods that he would spend his existence supporting and protecting her, if they would allow him to keep her by his side. Then they walked hand in hand to Iron Age.

Her lovely face clouded with uneasiness. "OK Stan, a stóirín? I'm a little scared for you!"

Amusement twinkled in his eyes.

"Why would you be scared for _me_ Del?"

Adele bit her lower lip and stole a look at him,"Because of my magics. Stan! I'm afraid that my blood might turn you!"

Stan chuckled as he put his foot into the stirrup and mounted Iron Age. Del mounted quickly and gracefully behind him, encircling him with her slender arms.

"Del darlin', vamps have been feeding off Fae, when they could get 'em, since the dawn of vamps. We can't turn each other--it just can't be done!"

Del's voice was low and urgent, "The Aesir put their mark on me. My blood's different. The magic in the vampire strain causes the turning. Can you feel the difference in yourself now? I know you can feel me, because I can feel you. I'm what the Fae call _ban sidhe_--a woman of the Others; my blood isn't pure. I'm a Daughter of the Blood. The vampire bloodlines run in me too! "

Del stirred uneasily in the saddle, and Stan reached back and stroked her cheek.

"Even Pam said that when I was born, after she took my cord blood, she was able to rise earlier and stay awake more easily after dawn."

She pressed herself against Stan's broad back." I don't think my blood would do anything _bad _to you, but I'm pretty sure it will change you. So, I'm afraid."

They descended the moonlit trail in silence until they reached Stan's gardens and the lights and activity of the ranch.

"Whoa boy!"

Stan dismounted and lifted Adele into his arms. They stood next to a trellised rose bush whose blossoms were just unfolding. The night wind flowed down the hillside and whispered in the cottonwoods. In the distant hills they could just barely hear the magical, liquid melody of a wooden flute. It was a pleasant, secret sound, closing them in together.

Stan cupped his hand beneath a perfect, fragrant rose.

He eyes sparkled with anticipation "Look in the center of this one Del"

Her delicate fingers searched its crimson petals lightly. A soft gasp escaped her as her fingers found the treasure Stan had hidden.

In her palm, an antique platinum, ruby, and diamond art deco engagement ring glinted in the moonlight. Small, brilliant diamonds cascaded in a filigree of flag lilies topped with a blood-red Burma ruby. Stan lifted it from Adele's palm and slipped it tenderly onto the ring finger of her left hand.

This time, he spoke to her in the intimacy of his ancient language, which her Fae gift of tongues allowed her to understand.

"This ring was worn by a queen. Now it will be worn by my queen. I'll _never_ quit you Del. There's only light in you. I've seen enough darkness for many lifetimes. You are _my_ light, a light that I can bear and _will_ bear wherever you take me. If I change because of you, it can only be change for the better."

He kissed her with his eyes, then reclaimed her lips with slow, tantalizing kisses. Their tongues danced as he explored the sweetness of her mouth. She could sense the barely controlled passion coiled in his body as his hand lightly traced a path over her skin. Then, she kissed him with a hunger that belied the calm façade she presented to the world, and their kiss became an eternal pledge.

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Aw, how do you like Stan now? Isn't he a sweetie ? (for a vampire king ,that is…)

**Give me the gift of a review.** **Your feedback has been amazing and I appreciate every word!**

Brace yourselves! Next chapter is Kirsten-- and she sure ain't Adele!


	3. Chapter 3

Dark Storm Rising Chapter 3

The Falcon

_A/N: Thanks for all of the reviews, PMs, author/story alerts, and fav listings! Your enthusiasm keeps my fingers on the keyboard! Trinity133 had a question about how my fics are related. Any one shots about the girls are directly connected to this story arc, but my other fics are separate. The absolutely wicked Felipe of Thou Shalt Not isn't connected to the Felipe of DSR, who is a dark shade of grey. I'm introducing three new characters in this chapter; Kirsten Northman (who you might have met in Battlefield), Toller __Hammarskjöld the King of Sweden and Denmark, and Jacques Herveaux, Kirsten's Were boyfriend, the oldest son of Alcide Herveaux. I hope you'll feel comfy with them. _

_BTW, Toller looks like a young Daniel Day Lewis in the Last of the Mohicans--yummy Nathanial! I'll post a link for the song and a pic of Daniel Day Lewis' Nathanial on my profile page. LOL I also like to think that Stan looks like a dark haired version of Liam Neeson in Rob Roy! Ahhh, I sort of have a thing for Irishmen…OK I am the mom of many metal heads, and actually enjoy industrial metal. Just in case you're not into metal: __the dropper/breakdown is the wild outburst that many metal bands have where the moshers go nuts. Oh yeah, "pogoing" is jumping straight up and down… and a crosse is what a Lacrosse stick's called. When you've got the ball, you"cradle" it constantly as you run. :-D **Watch this video to get a glimpse of Toller's and the Northman's world. It's magical! I had to put you tube separate; ff's funny that way...  
**_

** (you tube ) .com/watch?v=fylkjwVFXKA&feature=related**

As always thanks to AmaZen, my beta queen!

Caveat: CH's characters are hers. Other than mentioning Eric, for the first time in my fan fics ever, I do believe that every major character in this chapter is mine …bwahahahaha! Hope you enjoy!

_**You run, run...run away  
It's your heart...that you betray  
Feeding on...your hungry eyes  
I bet you're not so civilized**_

_**Well, isn't love..primitive  
A wild gift...that you wanna give  
Break out of captivity  
And follow me, stereo jungle child  
Love is the kill.....your heart's still wild  
**_

_**You talk, talk, you talk to me  
Your eyes touch me physically  
Stay with me, we'll take the night  
As passion takes another bite**_

_**Who's the hunter...who's the game?  
I feel the beat...call your name  
I hold you close...in victory  
I don't wanna tame your animal style..  
you won't be caged...in the call of the**_ _**wild....**_

_**"The Warrior" by Scandal  
**_

She spotted him as soon as Jacques Herveaux hoisted her onto his broad shoulders so that she could body surf the pit. Although his long hair was chestnut brown, he possessed her father's Nordic beauty. His perfectly proportioned body certainly didn't enthrall _her_. Kirsten had grown up with impossibly beautiful relatives, and relations--vampire, Fae, and semi-human. She knew better than to be impressed by beauty alone. Still, she smiled to herself. Even in the melee of pushing, bouncing, slamming bodies, the humans unconsciously made space for him. His self-command and studied relaxation radiated power and ageless strength.

An easy smile played at the corners of his generous mouth as he studied her quite openly. Vamp males were so used to being in total control! There was an infuriating glint of humor in his dark blue eyes as she regarded him with a glacial gaze. She put her will behind that glare, and transmitted a pointed message.

_Don't fuck with me! I'm more than you can handle!_

Kirsten's eyes narrowed. She actually snarled when his smile deepened into laughter, and he gave her a mock salute, the bastard! Oh, he was vamp royalty alright. If she'd been on the ground, he'd have looked down his aquiline nose at her, not that _she_ really cared. But here he was, as old as dirt, at a Children of Bodom death metal concert, and Kirsten Northman's suitor senses were tingling.

Her eyes flashed around the club. Faðir's vamps were in place. She made eye contact with Marcus, the most powerful vamp, and shifted her eyes to the stranger. Marcus nodded and winked. The strange vamp was Faðir approved, or he wouldn't have gotten within an ass's bray of her. God damn it! Faðir never gave up! If he thought that she'd just break down, follow the path of least reluctance, and pick a suitor from his menu, he could pack sand! She enjoyed Jacques' warm, breathing body, thank you very much, and she wasn't about to give him up when she was barely an adult in human years!

Someone lurched into them, and Jacques' big hands tightened on Kirsten's thighs.

Jacques shouted over the music and fans, knowing she'd hear. No one was going to drop a Babe like her, but he always felt anxious about this. "Ready Kirs? I'll follow you in. Are you sure? It's rough tonight!"

Kirsten laughed, "Just slingshot me in there before the dropper! It'll be kick-ass!"

The music was about to go from lyrical to a crashing point that would jack up adrenaline levels and begin the moshers' smash and slam session. The band members were all pushing forty, but they were still fuckawesome, Finnish, metal gods. No way was she not going to do this!

Jacques eyed the whirlpool of moshers running around the outside of the pit, and decided upon the best launch strategy. He made eye contact with a buddy in the pit who pushed his way toward them.

"Ok Kirs, Andy's got you. Get ready!" He glowered at some over excited males and growled, "But, if anyone cops a feel, I'm gonna fuck him up!"

Kirsten war whooped as she roller-coastered toward the stage on a wave of hands. She landed right in front of lead guitarist Alexi Laiho, who took one look at the goddess at his feet, and motioned for security to pull her up on stage. Fuck! She was going to dance on stage. Oh, the vamsters were gonna freak out when a noble Daughter of the Blood's boobs stared jiggling as she pogoed in front of a pit of slamdancing humans!

***********************

Toller Hammarskjöld, king of Sweden and Denmark surveyed the beautiful woman in front of him with admiration. As she straddled her young Were boyfriend's shoulders, Kirsten Northman's five foot ten inches of golden perfection demanded men's attention. When she became his, other men might devour her with their eyes, but only he would ever possess her. She bent down to smile at the Were cub, in her minimal halter top and tight, low riding jeans that hugged the sensual curves of her hips and bottom.

A mane of untamed, golden curls tumbled to her waist. As she tucked unruly ringlets behind her ear, her eyes scanned the crowd taking everything in. She had been well trained by Britlingen, vampire and Fae martial arts masters; even here in this chaos she was alert. Her eyes locked upon his, appraising him as boldly as he was appraising her. For centuries, he had eclipsed his rivals, but his young lioness was having none of it. To his eyes, she glowed with the light of their kind, but also with the delicious, pulsing aura of the warm blooded.

His future queen's eyes flicked to her Vampire escort. Her beautiful lips compressed as she glared at him with magnificent, glacial blue eyes. No matter. He smiled benignly, as if he were dealing with a temperamental child. A thrill coursed through him, and his manhood stirred as she bent her will upon him, warning him away. In all of his long years of existence, no woman had been capable of doing this! Kirsten Freya Northman was used to being in command on the playing field, in her academics, in her social set, as she shredded her metal ax and pounded drums with her garage band, and especially at the official functions she attended as a Daughter of the Blood.

His intelligence had informed him that she was fighting an arranged marriage, and that she and her father were at terrible odds. She was also still a technical virgin. Toller didn't mind that she had experimented. Her daring and sexual inventiveness proved her to be a passionate woman. The fact that she was still a virgin proved that, despite appearances, she knew that there were some expectations she needed to uphold. Her latest rebellion had taken the form of a colorful, winged Valkyrie "tramp stamp" across the small of her back. Although it has infuriated her father, the flashy tattoo amused Toller. Sometime soon, he'd explore it, as well as the rest of Kirsten, in great detail.

Toller perceived that Kirsten's rebellion would only escalate until she knew her own heart. Kirsten Northman was a follower of the Aesir, pledged to the Lady Freya since birth. Toller felt confident that, in time, she would accept her wyrd. Still, the inevitability of marriage to a vampire king removed Kirsten from the driver's seat and caged her will. If she only knew how he intended to liberate her! He would never attempt to break the will of this astonishing creature. No, this young Daughter of the Blood would need to know that _she_ chose _him_. As he laughed and saluted her, Toller _Hammarskjöld, was absolutely confident that Kirsten Northman would, eventually, do just that._

From his vacation home on a private island off of the Outer Banks, he'd watched the latest holographic footage of Kirsten Northman. Her biceps rippled as she expertly cradled her crosse. Lithe, well-muscled thighs pumped, as she dodged her opponents to score her team's deciding goal and win the Louisiana Lacrosse Championships. After paying Ahet, the paparazzi imp, an astronomical fee Toller had secured footage of Kirsten achieving near vampiric speed as she her fought her sword master with a Viking spatha and seax.

Toller watched as she called down the battle fury. Her beautiful lips twisted into a grim smile as her blade flashed past her instructor's attempted parry. He heard pleasure in her incoherent snarl as she drove the spatha forward with lightening speed. Of course, he'd also viewed footage of Kirsten at official functions, coiffed and sheathed in a civilized veneer. She played the honey-sweet southern belle to perfection. But beneath the veneer, she was still the glorious warrior who had gutted and decapitated her would-be abductor only weeks ago.

He moved closer to her, motioning for some of his humans to jostle the young Were further away. Gods! She was superb. If she'd been a human girl, he would have glamored her and fucked her in his limousine. But this was his woman for the ages, and he would have to be patient and behave honorably. Eric Northman was a fierce warrior and guarded his daughters' honor like a dragon guards its gold.

Toller's eyes glinted with amusement. There would be repercussions from tonight's escapades! Eric Northman was bound to hear of his daughter's latest outrage. Luckily, punishing Kirsten was not Toller's responsibility; his intentions were quite the opposite, in fact. Her proud, firm breasts rose and fell as she bounced frenetically on the stage then shimmied in a manner that would have scandalized the Sheriff of Louisiana's Areas Four and Five. At a signal from the guitarist, she launched herself back into the pit. In an instant, the musky perfume of her hair cascaded over him, and Toller held Kirsten above his head like a raised offering as the crowd roared its approval. He allowed her to slide down against him, and locked his arms around her.

Kirsten's skin tingled as Toller trailed one cool finger across the small of her back. She found it impossible to resist the pull of his sexual magnetism as he remarked in Old Norse, "Ever the obedient daughter, I see!"

The choice words she was ready to deliver died on her lips, and surprise replaced his smoldering look. Some force within her strained toward Toller. Something dormant flickered into awareness in the back of her mind and refused to be stilled. He seemed so damned familiar, but that was impossible.

She shrugged away the odd sensations, answering in the ancient language they both spoke fluently.

"Why should my sire object? It's an image of the Lady Freya, after all…so it's reverent!"

Just then, she saw Jacques pushing out of the pit toward them, his dark eyes stony with anger. Toller's embrace tightened slightly and she flushed like a little girl. He grinned down at her, knowing she could feel his stiff cock.

A shadow of alarm crossed Jacques' face as he took in the scene in front of him. Kirsten flinched, twisted out of Toller's arms, and made her way to Jaques who placed his arm about her waist protectively.

Despite the informal circumstances, this vampire was a royal suitor, and the Southern courtesy that her mother had pounded into her compelled her to make some sort of pleasant remark. She was suddenly anxious to escape from his disturbing presence and hoped that her smile was noncommittal when she shouted, "Hey! Thanks for catching me."

He seemed quite pleased with himself. His voice was low, purposefully seductive, and for her ears alone. "It was my pleasure!"

Then, he vanished like a gust of wind.

As they skirted the pit, Jacques raised his eyebrow. There was a hard edge in his voice.

"Who was that clown?"

Kirsten snuggled against Jacques, pleased at how nonchalant she sounded. "I'm not sure… just some foreign vamp passing through who's a Children of Bodom fan. Don't know his name…doesn't matter. It's not like I'll ever see him again!"

***********************************************

_Hah! So we've got a little love triangle going down. Will the chemistry heat up, or will Kirsten fight it until the bitter end?_

**Please review! Your reviews keep me going and motivate me to find time to write in the bits of open time I have while homeschooling five kids!**

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	4. Chapter 4

Dark Storm Rising Chapter 4

**The Falcon Cannot Hear the Falconer**

**_A/N:_**_ First you all probably figured out that FF is all messed up and won't let us upload our stories in the normal way. So this is chapter four, but I had to do some cutting and pasting with ch 3 to get it up. But, ha! We have triumphed over FF's snafus...I hope! _

_ I'm giving a shout out to anyone who is fluent in Swedish! Anyone who's fluent in Swedish and is willing to translate a few words and phrases upon occasion, please PM me. Otherwise, I'm at the mercy of the online translator, which isn't always accurate! More translations, Schatzi, means "darling" in German. __**Jesses**__ are thin straps, traditionally made from leather, used to tether a hawk or falcon in__ falconry__._

_OK, we've all had at least one of these; brace yourselves for a walk down memory lane to… a **really** bad date night! Ya' know, wrong time, wrong place…too much going on in your head…especially if you're telepathic…_

_ As always, CH's characters are hers and hers alone. My characters and the Daughters of the Blood concept are mine and mine alone. _

**Huge, heartfelt thanks to AmaZen, my incredible Beta, for taking on this chapter on Labor Day weekend. She really is a Beta goddess!**

**I encourage all of you to watch this! It will really get you into the world of DSR! :(www dot you tube) .com/watch?v=fylkjwVFXKA&feature=related**

******************************************************************

**_Rhiannon rings like a bell through the night  
And wouldn't you love to love her  
Takes to the sky like a bird in flight  
And who will be her lover_**

**_All your life you've never seen a woman  
Taken by the wind  
Would you stay if she promised you heaven  
Will you ever win_**

**_-Fleetwood Mac_**-

************************************************************

Kirsten glanced out of the deeply tinted windows of Jacques' ultra upgraded truck. The sun was just about to set, which meant a changing of the supernatural guard. The Fae, who guarded the girls during the day and were always lenient about touching and affection, would poof back to Alfheim. They'd be replaced immediately by Faðir's vamps, who were not the least bit lenient when it came to her amorous escapades. The vamps relaxed around Del. But when it came to Kirsten, the Northman's "wild child," they stayed on their toes and were hypocritically puritanical chaperons. As if _they _had any right to tap her shoulder and say, "_Ahem_, young lady!"

Since puberty, Kirsten had understood that the two things that vamps liked most in the world were drinking blood from a grade A human, and fucking--usually in that order. Despite the presence of vampire queens, the vampires' hierarchical structure had been designed by ancient men who believed that an unmarried Daughter must remain a maiden until she was safely married.

Even now, in the twenty-first century, a Daughter of the Blood's virginity was a priceless commodity. As they contemplated the centuries of vice and corruption that they had personally witnessed, the ideal of purity became more and more valuable. Possessive, ancient vamps also lusted after untainted goods! That's what Kirsten figured, and her kinswoman Pam agreed.

There were times when Kirsten would have given anything to fly away from some of these obligations. She also knew that such a wish could lead to dangerous consequences for a supernatural connected to the nine worlds of the Aesir. Still, her connection to the goddess Freya, fascinated and attracted her, and she couldn't deny that she enjoyed the deference and admiration her status provided. Nevertheless, Kirsten was determined to stretch her jesses as far as they'd go. Maybe, if she strained hard enough, they'd break entirely.

Tonight her opposition to her elders was taking place on the rear seat of Jacque Herveaux's new truck. Kirsten flexed her long legs and made a sour face as she tried to shift with Jacques on top of her. One of her pedicured feet was braced against a front headrest. Her other leg was pressed uncomfortably against the upholstery. Ugh! Even with its ample backseat and plush upholstery, making out in the truck was no turn on. Having unhooked and tossed her bra, Jacques was moaning and sucking on one breast, kneading the other one, and dry humping for all he was worth. It didn't help that it was hot and humid as hell. Well, Louisiana in June was probably hotter and more humid than hell.

Jacques trailed his tongue across the sweat beading between her breasts, and then returned to his frenzied assault upon her boobs. Kirsten ran her fingers across the bunching muscles of his shoulders and tried to enjoy his broad back's rippling, smooth muscles as he flexed against her. Most of the girls whom she knew would love to be in her current position, literally. But tonight, the passionometer was definitely falling as the humidity increased. Thank God Jacques wasn't telepathic, or even remotely reading her body language tonight. She closed her eyes and thought about plunging into the pond behind her home, then taking a shower, before the rest of the evening's social events got underway.

She also had to pick Del up from the airport in less than two hours, because Faðir was overseeing the preparations for a big vamp do for a Very Important Vamp and some of his retinue. After she picked Del up, they'd drop in to their friend Ellen's graduation party. They couldn't stay long, because of the vamp social event. Faðir would expect them to be there as his hostesses. Mom was still on a girls' only vacation with her BFF Luciana Lafazia, the only other woman Sookie knew who had produced Daughters and Sons of the Blood.

Tonight, Kirsten was doing her best to block both her mother and sister. That was another problem. She wasn't blocking well, and Del had just popped into her head, as sweet and lighthearted as a meringue. Del sure wouldn't be getting any lusty transmissions from the home front tonight. Besides, Kirsten was filled with a restless curiosity and was barely aware of Jacques' explorations, as Del's powerful mind thrummed like a live wire with grand and glorious feelings.

Just to make Del snicker, Kirsten put on her best jaded, vamp bitch voice.

_So, dahling, you said "Yes!" and he said "Oh, Del! I love you, blah, blissy blah…" Then what?_

Del's thoughts sparkled with joy.

_Well, he hid the ring in the rose…I told you!_

_How about the rock?_

_Just wait till you see it! You'll be jealous; you love Art Deco jewelry! It belonged to a queen, and Stan said he wanted it to belong to his queen!_

_Sappy! But romantic. OK Your man's craggy and old, but he's got style!_

Del's thoughts rippled with conspiratorial delight.

_Maybe someday Jacques will do something just as sweet..._

Kirsten felt goose flesh rise on her arms. She was unable to suppress a feeling that some strange magic was at work within her. The magic's nature was almost within reach, like a word that was just on the tip of her tongue.

_Yeah, maybe Del, I hope so…some day._

She put doubts about her own happy endings aside, as Del's thoughts flickered with consternation.

_Ah… …Stan's having words with Felipe's vamps. Things are pretty strained between those two right now…better go smooth the waters…if I can! He really doesn't want me to fly back with Felipe's guard, unless he's with me, but he's had this area summit scheduled for a year, and I've got the concert in Shreveport tomorrow night. But Stan'll be up in a few days, after Mom gets back, then we'll make a formal announcement as a family. Traditionally it's made from the Daughter's home base._

_Yeah, I know. We've been drilled about his stuff forever! _

Kirsten could almost detect the crackle of fiery emotions tugging at Del.

_Gotta go!_

Someone else was tugging on Kirsten.

_Me too...see ya later alligator!_

Del's longing to stay with Stan transmitted a warm golden-red glow. Kirsten had never seen or felt anything quite like it. Jacques had never made her senses spin like that! Her mother usually kept her thoughts to herself when it came to her relationship with Faðir. But they loved each other--powerfully, deeply--despite their occasional spats. Kirsten sensed that something as deep and intricate as the woven roots of old trees had grown out of their blood bond. Her mother's emotions felt very different from Del's simple waves of bliss. Of course there'd been tension too, caused by Felipe's insistence on a Nevada vamp escort. As Del's pledged, Stan had every right to order his own vamps to accompany her without Felipe's vamps along for the ride.

They'd all known that Felipe would be unhappy with Del's decision, even though he'd known for some time that if Del chose a vamp, it would be Stan. Del was such a gentle person. Even as a little girl, she was always nursing birds with broken wings and rescuing baby squirrels knocked out of trees. She even calmed that crazy, bucking filly that tried to take a bite out of anyone who got too close. A fight between Texas and Nevada was the last thing she'd want. Both Kirsten and Del knew that their mother and father expected some sort of trouble. Felipe was a proud man, and so was Stan.

Kirsten hissed! She was brought back into The Moment by a grave disservice to her anatomy.

Jacques had taken one of her nipples a little too enthusiastically between his teeth.

"Ow! Not so rough, baby!"

It was time to block and block hard. If her mother's powerful mind linked to hers right now, Mom would be on the phone to Faðir screaming that their daughter was being assaulted!

Kirsten slapped at a mosquito that had landed on her cheek, and exhaled slowly. Could this night get any worse?

Usually, the feel of Jacques' warm, wet lips and tongue teasing her nipples would have her soaked, throbbing, and begging for release. But, tonight was a disaster. Nothing deflated her sex drive like making out in the humid truck, with a mosquito upgrade, while a cavalry of vamps listened in. Kirsten shifted so that her back wouldn't stick to the seat, and stained to see the dashboard clock. In thirty minutes, they had to pick Del up from the airport in Shreveport.

Jacques was mega hard between her legs. The bulge straining against the seam of his jeans was screaming for release. He'd want a hand job next, or even better, a blow job. Well, Jacques had never made a claim to originality. Why should tonight be any different? The hand job was manageable. With a squadron of vigilant vamps surrounding them, the second, and more desirable option, was not even a remote possibility. They'd intervene alright, or their Sheriff might render them definitely dead. Besides, there was very little a vamp couldn't smell, hear, or see.

When she'd returned home last night, Pam had informed her, "I love you sweetheart, but duty comes first! If your furry friend investigates certain latitudes above the thighs and below the belly button, I'll personally rip his balls off…one at a time." She'd smiled and showed fang. "Your father considers that a fair exchange for your virginity…"

With that chilling thought in mind, she stroked Jacque's strong, smooth back, capturing his lips and gently sucking on his tongue until he moaned into her mouth.

As Jacques clutched her, Kirsten thought of how the Swedish vamp's corded arms encircled her like bands of steel. She was flooded with the memory of his attractive, compelling scent. The unsettling connection hovered in the background of her mind, ruining her kiss, and leaving her even more frazzled and restless.

Jacques took her hand and placed it against his substantial bulge. As he thrust against her hand, his voice was ragged. "Kirs, l wants to be inside of you right now! If you love me you'll let me! This is torture!"

Oh no! Why tonight? Jacques must realize that her bodyguards were within hearing distance. Even if they were being discreet, someone was bound to eavesdrop. Vamps were at least as nosey as humans!

She kept her voice honey-sweet, "Baby you know I've never blocked you…but tonight there's only so far we can go… I can't…not with all of the heat lurking in the woods."

Jacques ignored her, hooked his fingers around the edges of Kirsten's low-riders and tugged. "Why are we torturing each other? You know how much I want you!"

He kissed her taut nipples, finally rousing a melting sweetness within her. "I know you want it too!"

His big hands moved down either side of her body until they caressed her thighs.

In a normal, human relationship it would have been so much easier to just give in and welcome Jacques into her body. They had dated for over two years. Only fear kept her from taking the final step of letting Jacques take her virginity. The fear was not simply of what her father would do to both of them, although that fear was real enough. If she was absolutely honest with herself, she was afraid of losing the honor and respect she had come to take for granted. Her people--her father, her mother, her sister, Pam, her guardian the king, all of the vampires who were a part of her life, would think less of her for disregarding their expectations. But if Jacques really loved her, and she really loved Jacques, none of that would matter! They'd stand together against these stupid prejudices and make their own lives.

The thought had barely crossed her mind before another, even more terrifying realization followed. For her father and Jacques' father, for the Vamps and the Weres, a sexual union between a Daughter of the Blood and the firstborn son of the Longtooth pack's leader, held a dreadful symbolism. A mating of vampire and Were was distasteful, but a child produced of the two bloodlines would be considered a monstrosity by both races. The two species had never existed comfortably together. Some vamps in Faðir's retinue grumbled openly when Eric had grudgingly allowed them to date. Mr. and Mrs. Herveaux were always polite, but they were also aloof and formal to the point of being stilted.

She took a breath, and prayed to her gods that Jacques would say the things that she needed to hear--then everything would be alright.

She pulled back a little and grasped Jacques' face, staring intently into his dark eyes.

"Jacques, we've been as close as toes in a stretch sock for over two years. You have to level with me now! If we did this, if we made love so that I'm not even technically a virgin, terrible things would happen! At the very least, my father would punish me terribly. He'd probably declare war against the Weres for the dishonor. He'd be out for your blood! _When_, not _if,_ this happens, are you willing to stand by me, to take me into your family…to make me your mate?"

Jacques looked liked he'd just seen the boogey-man that had been hiding in his closet. A cold knot formed in Kirsten's stomach, and she clenched her hand until her nails dug into her palm.

"Damn Jacques, I believe in us …say something!"

Kirsten was more shaken than she cared to admit when Jacques looked at her like some strange animal that had wandered into his presence.

"Kirs, you know I'm the first born of a pack leader. You're always complaining about your duties and obligations. I have them too damn it! There's something that I've been keeping from you for months; Dad wants me to date a Were girl, named Mariette Junod."

He noticed the raw hurt in Kirsten eyes, and stumbled on. "But, I haven't, because I care so much about you Kirs! Then, I saw you with that jerk at the concert. I'm not dumb; I know he's a suitor and that you wouldn't tell me, even though I could tell you knew who and what he was. Everyone's talking about the fact that you have to marry vamp royalty except you! You can't run away from the fact that you're scheduled to marry one of these creeps! "

A flicker, then a flame of comprehension crossed Kirsten's face. She fought to keep her voice from trembling.

"I'd hoped that we loved each other enough to face this, even run if we had to, together. But I guess that I was dumb to think that. So, if we really had the kind of sex where I could actually get pregnant, would you stand by me? Would you protect me, like I'd protect you, from all the shit that would come down on us? Would you make me your mate, or would sex with me just be a cozy memory for YOU before you left me cold? You wanted to have sex with me tonight, knowing what the Weres want from you!"

Silence loomed between them. Kirsten's features settled into that implacable frown that her mother called "the Northman lockdown." She had been so sure that Jacques would rebel, as she had been prepared to do. Now it was clear that everything she had so foolishly believed about their future was founded on an illusion.

Jacques shuddered against her, as he drew in a sharp breath.

"I'm sorry Kirs! I'm sorry! I never wanted to hurt you. That's why I just couldn't bring myself to say anything. I just kept hoping that, some miracle would happen, and everything would work out for us. But after last night at the concert, well, it's clear that your father's never going to give up. And the way that clown held you…the look in _your _eyes!"

She took deep breaths until she was strong enough to raise her head. Her icy blue eyes clawed him like talons, and her nostrils flared with fury. Tears flooded her eyes, which made her even more furious. Jacques forced himself to look into those eyes, knowing that she would never know what it had cost him to sacrifice her for the honor of his father and his pack. He was too humiliated to say another word, but he had to meet her gaze.

Jacques watched in agony as Kirsten pulled on her shirt and shoved her shoes back onto her feet. She had never looked more beautiful, more wounded, or more lethal.

She shoved her black lace bra, perfumed with her intoxicating scent, into his hands and opened the door.

"Here! Take this and remember that you nearly fucked a Daughter of the Blood; someone else will have _that_ privilege now!"

Before he had time to pull her back into the truck, hold her, and apologize, Kirsten vanished into the dark shadows of the woods. Hidden in the treetops, an owl shrieked like a banshee.

Marcus and Thalia flanked Kirsten within seconds. Even in the pitch dark of the woods, they could see the humiliating flush in her cheeks. She had known them for as long as she could remember. Thalia and Kirsten had always gotten along. She respected Kirsten's connection to the goddess Freya.

Marcus raised an eyebrow, "The car's waiting for us. You're not walking anywhere tonight in this state," he smirked, "_not _that I have any idea what happened…"

Kirsten growled in answer, "Yeah, well I'm sure y'all heard everything loud and clear. I'm a fucking idiot, and now it'll all get back to Dad. Then, it'll be smirks, _I told you so _looks_,_ and lectures about how this marriage crap is my 'wyrd.'"

Secretly, Kirsten wished that the whole episode was just a nightmare. She'd wake up and everything would be just the way it had been. But the way it had been was a lie. Their relationship was doomed from the start because Jacques was willing to bend over and take it in the ass when it came to Were politics, she thought bitterly.

Thalia's eyes glittered with a silvery light, "Weres! Their most incorruptible character trait is a splendid streak of self-interest. That little bastard needs to have his furry ass kicked. Would you like me to do the honors?"

Kirsten snorted, "Like that's not true of vamps or any other creature I've met--except maybe Claudine--but she's jonesing to be an angel! No thanks, I can kick Jacques' ass myself, but he is _so_ not worth it. "

Marcus scowled and showed fang. "His loss schatzi!"

She'd met Marriette Junod, whose parents were wealthy contractors like the Herveauxs, and she hadn't been impressed.

Her I.Q. might be about the same as her bust size, but she'd produce a pure bred Were child for Jacques, which was something Kirsten could never do.

She dashed tears from her eyes as she skirted live oaks shawled in strands of Spanish moss. Jon, one of Faðir's newer bodyguards, was waiting by the side of the road in a black Mercedes.

She kept her voice level. If she caved in now and started to sob, she'd never regain her composure. "I'll need to stop by the house for twenty minutes and change first for this how-de-do tonight." Kirsten had never been big on primping. That was Del's department.

Marcus opened the door for her. "Thalia and Jon will go with you to pick up Del, but I'll be watching you all the way!"

Marcus and some of the other vamps would fly; there would be more vamps at the airport and along the road. Since the attempted abduction and Faðir's unsettling "dreams," security had been tripled.

The airport would be swarming with Felipe's and Stan's vamps, seen and unseen, when her sister, the future queen of Texas, arrived back home.

Thalia's black eyes blazed.

"Kirsten, he was never really meant for you. I know you don't want to hear this, but your destiny is otherwise."

Kirsten nodded, her thoughts jagged, painful, and as dark as the gloomy woodlands. She'd learned a few things from her mother's favorite movie, _Gone with the Wind. _Like Scarlett, she knew exactly how to keep up appearances and play the Southern belle. She'd trained for this role all of her life. Whether she liked it or not, she was vampire royalty, and she knew how to meet and greet. It would be a busy night, but she was the Daughter who had inherited her parents' stiff-necked pride. She'd keep up appearances. She put up an unbreachable wall of Southern gentility behind which her pain and humiliation turned into a white-hot rage that no outsider would ever witness.

Mom would be at Luciana Lafazia's Key Largo vacation home for two more days. By the time she returned, Kirsten would be calm again and they'd discuss the next step, which Kirsten hoped was one of several colleges that had accepted her.

This was Mom's first vacation without the family, and Kirsten didn't want to bother her. The acceptance letters could wait until she returned. Faðir didn't want to discuss college, unless marriage was discussed at the same time. Things were so strained between them that any conversation about _his_ plans for her future were bound to lead to a shouting match. It was a relief that brilliant, gentle Del would be home tonight. She always had a kind word and great insights. Kirsten hoped some of Del's happiness would spill over onto her, because tomorrow was going to be too tough to get through alone.

*****************************

_So, how do you like the next gen characters so far? Don't worry! Sook, Eric, and other original SVM characters will be a big part of DSR too. _

_What was your worst date night experience? C'mon, spill! _

**Please be a belle and give me the gift of your review…**

_Have a wonderful Labor Day weekend!_

_*hugs*_


	5. Chapter 5

Dark Strom Rising Chapter 5

**Gaze No More in the Bitter Glass**

A/N: _OK my lovelies. Here's Faðir and Moðir, still together and in love. My hubby and I just celebrated our 25__th __ on 9/9/09, so I'm all about strong relationships Thanks again for all of your PMs, reviews, and for choosing to make DSR a favorite fic, or for making me a fav author. I'm overwhelmed by your support, and hope that you'll continue to enjoy the trilogy. BTW I have a bit of surgery coming , so there may be a slight gap in updates…then again I might be a writing fool on pain meds! The World Tree is Ygdrassil--The Holy Tree--which connects all of the nine worlds._

_Also, I've placed links on my profile to the dresses Kirsten and Adele wear to the VIV party. There's also a link to a pic of a woman who looks just like Kirsten. Adele looks just like the little gal towards the end of the YouTube video Northern Journey (there's a link for that on my profile) who's lying down with her eyes closed. _

_Sookie and Eric are involved in Seiðr (pronounced Seithr) magic. I call it a "sending," because it is sent to a person and because that person will be sent to witness an event. Seiðr is about the loss of one's control of self, consciousness, and environment; it's about the inhibited submersion of one's self into something outside the involved's persona. Seiðr is the shamanism of the North. My gal, Freya first taught the art of Seiðr to the Aesir. * Translation of Swedish--There's no need to be angry. It's over. You've won this battle. Are you happy now?" To which Eric replies, "Yes. I'm pleased. Other joys await you."_ "_mina döttrar", means "my daughters."_

_CH's characters are hers and hers alone. My characters, and the concept of Daughters of the Blood, are mine and mine alone. I'm briefly introducing another new character, __Zeline Paquette; she's Jason Stackhouse's wildcat of a daughter…literally_

**Jotten-sized thanks to AmaZen, my beta-queen!**

_***************************************************_

**_Beloved, gaze in thine own heart  
The holy tree is growing there;  
From joy the holy branches start  
And all the trembling flowers they bear.  
The changing colours of its fruit  
Have dowered the stars with merry light;  
The surety of its hidden root  
Has planted quiet in the night…Gaze no __more in the bitter glass  
The demons, with their subtle guile,  
Lift up before us when they pass,  
Or only gaze a little while;  
For there a fatal image grows..  
That the stormy night receives,  
Roots half hidden under snows,  
Broken boughs and blackened leaves…  
Thy tender eyes grow all unkind:  
Gaze no more in the bitter glass.  
Beloved, gaze in thine own heart,  
The holy tree is growing there;  
From joy the holy branches start,  
And all the trembling flowers they bear.  
Remembering all that shaken hair  
And how the winged sandals dart,  
Thine eyes grow full of tender care;  
Beloved, gaze in thine own heart._ **

**"The Two Trees" W.B. Yeats**

Sookie froze in the café in Key West where she and Luciana were having a quick lunch before heading back to the queen of Italy's yacht after a morning of sightseeing and shopping. Even twelve hundred miles away, she could feel her husband's distress through the bond. Sookie reached out with her powerful mind, and perceived her husband clearly. His strong, beautiful face looked rumpled, as though he had slept in his thoughts. His mental barricades had been breached by some mighty, ancient, creature and the images she perceived were like the utterances of delirium.

She felt Luciana grasp her hand, grounding her, as she projected her consciousness toward her husband through their bond. She felt emptiness cold as ice as she called out to her mate in the pitch darkness between the worlds. At last she found him, exhausted and trapped. She willed herself into his world. Like a thick, muffling blanket, a nightmarish vision wrapped around them and forced them into its depths.

_The earth groans and rips apart. Forests topple. Complete mountains collapse with deafening rumbles. Cities turn to smoking rubble. Out of the abyss the red-haired fire Jotten rises, as pale as death, as beautiful and lethal as lightening. His fingers entwine in the thick fur of a huge wolf, his son Fenrir. They are accompanied by a host of demons. The wolf, who is his son, opens its mouths and ravages earth, trees, and all things that are opposed to the new order. _

_Its red-rimmed eyes flicker with hatred for all that is part of the old order. Seas shake and roar violently as Jormungand, the gargantuan serpent that is also the Jotten's spawn, rises. A red cock crows to the giants, a golden cock crows to the gods, and a rusty brown cock raises the dead from Hel's domain. _

_Gods, shape-shifting beasts, Fae, demons, and giants, in ships and on horseback, walking and flying, take sides on the battlefield of Vigrid in the country known as Norway. Led by Odin and the Aesir,__ the army of the nine worlds battles its foes. __ They wield divine swords, magical spears and axes. They channel, salmon leap, and move like whirlwinds. Swords and axes flash, spears and arrows fall like bitter rain, as they fight for the nine worlds._

_The red-haired Jotten leads the army of chaos. Thor, the champion of Midgard, battles him and falls. The Hel hound, Garm, howls and joins the fire Jotten. This is the final battle, the fate of the gods, where the nine worlds will topple in defeat. _

_The pitch dark sky is filled with wails of terror and death screams.__ Ygdrassil, __the World Tree, which connects the nine worlds, shivers from its deepest root to its highest branch__. __Eric and Sookie feel this shaking from deep within: their very existence shivers. Everything in the nine words quivers._

_Suddenly a radiant light shines in the darkness. One delicate creature holds the armies apart. _

_She turns toward them and smiles. They cry out and strain to fly to her side, but an unseen barrier keeps them back. Her voice is clear and fearless._

"_The nine worlds will vanish into the sea when the Jotten slays the gods that be, unless he is stopped."_

_Sookie shakes her head violently. Tears stream down her face as the fragile champion smiles gently._

"_Don't cry. I was conceived in love and created for love. This is my wyrd. I was made for this. Only love can vanquish such hatred…"_

_She raises her hands, pulling the elements of earth, air, fire, water, blood, and spirit into herself until her body pulses and her form is too bright to gaze upon. Sookie and Eric feel her agony and her determination as she courageously allows the pulsing energies to build. _

_They join in her battle cry as she sends the elements forth from her with the power of an atomic burst, and hold each other in desolation as she flares like a meteor, then winks out of existence. Sookie reaches out to Eric, but he has turned and retreated into the darkness._

Sookie's own short, anguished sob startled her back into the bright sunshine of the café. Luciana was supporting her, while a small group of the concerned and curious looked on.

Luciana's soft, lilting voice explained gently," No really, she'll be fine once she drinks this orange juice. She left her insulin in her room…you know how it is, with all of the traveling; she must have forgotten to put it in her bag. She has to be so careful about her levels, but with the vacation…"

Luciana put a glass of orange juice in her shaking hands, "Here, mia cara, drink this."

Sookie obediently drank and smiled reassuringly up at Luciana, who stroked Sookie's hair and beamed at the audience, "See? All better now! I've called my chauffeur."

Once they were safely in the back seat of the sedan, Luciana turned to Sookie and gripped her hand, her brows creased in concern.

"I know that haunted look! You were summoned, weren't you…and not by Eric!"

Sookie nodded slowly, "I felt his distress through the bond and knew that he wasn't dreaming, and that he wasn't awake in the usual sense, I've only felt something like this once before, years ago, just before the girls were born. But Eric wouldn't discuss it with me then, because he thought it would upset me so close to the births, stubborn man that he is!" She added grimly, "I've done plenty of research since then. That was no dream; what we were sucked into was a sending. Only someone connected to a deity, or a deity itself, could have transmitted a nightmare that powerful. There was war, chaos, death…so much death! The last time this happened, I was on the outside feeling Eric's emotions through the bond; _this_ time we shared the experience. This time, Eric and I will talk!"

Luciana's soft, clear voice held a challenge. "Then I suppose you won't tell him now."

Sookie shrugged and answered with deceptive calm. "I can't. He's already protective. And after what we witnessed, he'll have half his retinue surrounding me plus Clovache and Batanya tied to my hips! Besides," she continued sadly, "it's still too early. I've miscarried twice since the girls' births. No, I won't tell him yet. By the time he'll be able to tell from my blood, I'll be out of the first trimester, and out of danger."

Luciana patted Sookie's hand, "This time it will be different, I have seen this. Your children are bound to the Aesir. Pray to your own god, but ask the Lady Freya for her blessing. Fertility is her domain."

They arrived at the dock where the Lafazia's seventy-three foot Horizon yacht was moored.

Luciana embraced Sookie. They had been friends for many years now, years blessed with peace for Sookie and Eric. She observed her friend's aura. It swirled with murky grays and maroons as tension overwhelmed Sookie. Luciana sighed inwardly. She sensed that her friend's years of peace and tranquility were coming to an end. The Aesir gods were stormy and contentious by nature. This sending did not bode well for the Northman clan.

Sookie stared out the tinted window at the harbor's sparkling, turquoise blue water. Only yesterday there had been so much joy! Adele had "spoken" with her shortly after she'd accepted Stan's pledge, literally glowing with happiness. Eric was over the moon. They had already planned a small celebration after the formal announcement. Of course, Kirsten was happy for her sister, but she was blocking sullenly at the moment, so Sookie sensed trouble in that direction. But both the joy and the minor troubles paled before the sending's nightmarish spectacle.

"Luciana, I have to go home as soon as I can. Eric and the girls need me. I'll call Eric as soon as he's up. No sense I worrying the girls. I'm sure I won't get in until after the reception for the King is over. I didn't know he was going to be in the area until a few days ago." Although, she suspected, Eric might have known a bit sooner.

"Eric will probably want to pick me up himself."

Luciana nodded gravely. "Of course, mia cara! We'll head back to Key Largo immediately. You can fly out of Miami on my jet tonight. But, given what you've shared with me, I insist upon sending some of my own escort to supplement your security."

*****************

Eric awoke achingly aware of Sookie's absence. She had been with him during the sending--a warning, he thought from the Goddess Freya, of what was to come. Short of locking his daughters away indefinitely, the only way he could protect them was by increasing security and asking that Prince Niall do the same during the daytime. Before the girls were born, he had experienced a similar sending where he had viewed the Jotten Loki bound in chains. He had been offered a choice--and he had made one that placed him firmly on the side of the Aesir. Why the Jotten would be troubled by the presence of two little girls had just been made somewhat clearer--if the sending was accurate and not an illusion sent to deceive.

A surge of pure lust rippled through him, and he grew hard recalling the last time they had made love and tried a bit of bondage, which--surprisingly--had been Sookie's idea. She lay on the bed with her hands tied together. First he had devoured her with his eyes as she spread herself beneath him. He knew every inch of her beautiful, body intimately, but he had never tired of exploring it. He'd started with a tease, holding his first and second fingers in a V, placing then on either side of her wet clit and massaging in a scissoring motion until her hips buck toward him.

"Now Eric!" She moaned, "Please, now!"

He'd laughed wickedly, enjoying her beauty and the scent of her arousal, "Not yet min älskare! There's something else I have to attend to first…"

He lowered his head, locking his arms across her pulsing hips, parted her folds, and fucked her with his tongue until she was breathless and pleading for release. Then, he paid special attention to her clit, using a side-to-side motion with his tongue. He could feel her pulse quicken as she squirmed and throbbed beneath him.

"I'm going to come hard!" She moaned breathlessly.

In answer he'd nuzzled her thigh and bit. As she climaxed, he lapped up her fluids greedily. Then he spread her even more, and plunged into her glistening moistness again and again while she arched toward him to take him further. Thrusting her hips against his, she writhed, called out his name, and clenched around him as he exploded within her.

After eighteen years, Eric still could not get enough of Sookie Stackhouse Northman! No other woman had ever possessed him so completely; no other woman ever would.

They had made love so often over the years that their scents were intermingled. Any supernatural would know that she was his woman merely by her scent. She had been utterly faithful to him for over eighteen years and, although he took blood from other women upon occasion, he had been faithful to her as well.

But this week had been a trial! It was the longest that they had been physically separated in years. He had stroked himself to climax upon several occasions for relief. Although he could have had sexual relief with any fangbanger in his bars and casinos, he could not bring himself to be unfaithful. The greatest offenses his wife had had to endure had all sprung from betrayal, and he would _never _betray her.

_Eric!_

Her soft drawl filled his head, and he reached toward her, his first thought following his visceral need for her. _ I want you!_

A ripple of laughter crossed their bond. _I want you too honey; the sooner the better. I'm coming home tonight on Luciana's private jet; I'll be in around 3:00 A.M. So I'm afraid I'll miss your reception for the King of Sweden. _

Like a sudden cloud over the sun, her thoughts became somber._ Eric, we need to talk about the sending! Was it a true vision of what's going to happen, a warning of what could happen, or a lie sent by some powerful enemy? _

Her anxiety increased as she speculated._ Anyway you cut it, it's bad. Although I couldn't see her face for sure in the shadows, I'm sure that the girl who channeled was…_

Eric's throat tightened. _ Don't say her name! You know how much power's in a name. Think of the trouble Niall brought upon us when he mentioned your Fae name in Midgard and brought the Hel hounds down upon us! To name her now connects her to the sending in a new way. Perhaps it is what the one who summoned us desires. It would seal her fate._

_Eric…I think we should tell them…they have a right to know._

Eric considered this. _Not yet…not until we can determine who worked the magic and whether it was meant to be a warning or a threat. _

A shiver of uncertainty crossed the bond; she was careful not to say too much._ Texas has a right to know. _

_Yes, but not yet. For a little while more, she is still our responsibility._

_Eric! That's just high-handed!_

He smiled, recalling the first time she'd called him that. Just to make her smile he retorted, _Then, I am high-handed!_

*****************************

When it came to quick wardrobe changes**, **Kirsten was as good as her word. After a brief shower, just enough to freshen up and remove Jacques' scent, she slipped into a high-end black Max Azria cocktail dress, classic enough to be considered formal, and daring enough to suit her taste. The modest neckline framed a sheer panel inset from left shoulder to mid-breast, while the asymmetrical hemline rose from demure mid-thigh on one side to suggestively short on the other.

Kirsten wore it as a declaration of her stubborn non-conformity, but in truth it proclaimed her the constrained aristocrat that she actually was. Both girls would wear their long hair unbound. Faðir preferred it that way at these events, as a sign of their maidenhood, and all of the older vamps seemed to approve of this practice.

As she left the house and stepped back in the limo, Marcus catcalled from where he hovered above a Sycamore tree, "Classy! Sexy too! The VIV and the Boss should approve."

Kirsten grinned and flipped Marcus the bird while Thalia shook her head in dismay. Such levity would have been unbecoming in a priestess to be in her day!

Adele's plane had arrived a bit late, which meant they'd have to skip Ellen's party. She called Ellen and promised to meet her tomorrow night at their cousin Zeline's hard rock music jam. In a bow to their status as twins and as their father's hostesses for the evening, Adele had chosen a more conservative deep plum Azria cocktail dress from the same collection. As a personal joke, considering the difference in their height and their father's love of the color red, both girls wore black, double-platform open-toed slingbacks with red leather soles.

As they drove to the casino for the reception, Adele displayed her ring and chattered happily about all things Stan. "He's building a recording studio for me and you should see the plans for the music room… and he uncovered my eyes and showed me a red roan Appaloosa mare, a World champion. She's 15.2 hands, just the right height for me, and he named her Rose!"

Kirsten was too happy for Adele to lower her mental block and let her own emotional volcano erupt, but Del figured it out soon enough.

Adele grasped Kirsten's face and looked intently into her eyes. _You're blocking…and I'm babbling away not paying attention. _

Kirsten dashed unwanted tears from her eyes. She needed more time to erase the pain. She was shocked at the depth of her hurt and anger.

Adele hugged her fiercely. _Oh fuck! It's Jacques, isn't it? That bastard! He broke it off over some Were girl didn't he? That does it! I'm gonna ask Aunt Amelia to hex him! Better yet, just wait till cousin __Zeline hears about this. She'll rip him up with her wildcat claws!_

Zeline Paquette was their cousin, Uncle Jason's daughter by a pure bred Cajun shifter, Maxzille Paquette, and she was a wildcat in every sense of the word, especially during the full moon.

Kirsten's eyebrows flew up. _Wait! You knew there was a Were girl and you didn't say a word to me?_

Adele shook her head vehemently _Of course not! I didn't know about anyone in particular. But there's been talk, gossip really, because he's the firstborn of a pack leader. Things have been hinted at right in front of you Kirs; you just didn't care to pay attention._

They were rolling up to the VIP/VIV entrance to Valhalla, their father's kitschy, yet sumptuous, Viking themed casino, complete with an absolutely accurate replica of a Viking longship and well-muscled Nordic Viking types in sexy, neo-Viking costumes to wow the clientele.

The reception would be held in the lavish Mead Hall. Eric loved his corporate Mead Hall, and had given his family an enthusiastic pre-opening tour. Despite the modern comforts, such as a plush crimson carpet, its purpose had changed very little over a millennium.

"In the Great Mead Hall, just as at a corporate reception, deals were cut, allegiances forged, payoffs were negotiated and power was wielded."

Faðir had grinned expansively, showing a bit of fang. "What goes on in here will be almost like old times!"

Several pairs of ornately carved ash pillars rose clear to the vaulted ceiling. The asymmetrical, interlocked beasts and beings hinted at the Supe world's odd, mutually dependent alliances--shifting alignments that appeared and disappeared, their beginnings and destinations never fully visible.

As the Vampire guard opened the door, bowed formally and handed the young women out of the sedan, Kirsten saw her father glaring at her, his expression thunderous. Some industrious vamp who wanted to get ahead had already informed her sire of recent exploits.

Her face paled as startled hurt mingled with her anger at Jacques for bringing about her father's victory in this dispute,. She lifted her chin meeting Eric's icy gaze straight on. How dare he glare at her! Well, tonight she would play the noble woman to the hilt. Scarlett O'Hara would seem like a poseur next to her. Adele's hands were fluttering in distress and she gazed from her father to her sister.

Kirsten walked to her father first, and formally touched her forehead in an ancient sign of deference. She barely had to stretch to kiss his cool cheek. After she'd done so, she smiled for the onlookers, and whispered, "Det finns ingen anledning att vara arg. Det är over. Du har vunnit striden. Är du lycklig nu?"*

Eric's features softened. He smoothed her ringlets with his hand as he had since she was a little girl. It was his gesture of affection for her. "Ja, jag är glad. Andra glädjeämnen väntar."*

She stepped aside smiling sweetly, maintaining her air of Southern gentility as Del hurried forward in those ridiculously high heels and threw herself into Eric's arms. "Pappa!"

Eric kissed Del gently on the forehead and beamed as he held her delicate hand and examined the pledge ring.

"This is a joyful night! I'm proud of you mina döttrar." His loving gaze shifted from Adele to Kirsten. "I am proud of both of you." He held out his arms for his girls to hold.

"Now let's go in! Our guests will arrive very soon."

******************************

Toller pulled on his black Armani jacket, his dark hair was elaborately braided in the old way, and he was sure that Kirsten Northman would understand and appreciate his gesture. He had enjoyed the opulent VIV penthouse suite Eric had provided, as well as the lovely female companion whose services were "on the house." But the girl, although lovely, was the fair creature of an hour.

The object of his desire stood in front of him near the entry as the band played something soft and innocuous. Before entering the vast reception room, he drank in the sight of Kirsten as she stood next to the delicate beauty who must be her sister Adele.

It was obvious from their relaxed, affectionate exchange, that the sisters loved each other very much. Adele's eyes fell upon Toller first. He felt a wave of power flow over him as Adele assessed him, then "spoke" telepathically to Kirsten.

For a brief moment, Kirsten's brilliant, blue eyes widened, before the mask of the Southern belle descended again. She nodded and gifted him with a brilliant smile. Toller grinned and bowed as their eyes met. He had caught her off her guard, but she had recovered as quickly as he had expected.

Before they entered, Ottó, his second in command whispered, "The lady Kirsten is breathtakingly beautiful your majesty, but she _is_ young and inexperienced."

Toller bent toward Ottó, never taking his eyes off of his future queen as she greeted other guests with a sophistication and gentility beyond her years.

"That's where you are wrong, my friend. The spirit that animates that glorious body is old, even older than I. She has only to recognize what I have already discovered."

******************************************

_Ooh, am I a bad girl for leaving their conversation until the next chapter? What do you think they'll say to each other? *waggles eyebrows* _

_Check out the dresses on my profile and see what you think…_

_*sad violin music* I'm having surgery Monday.__** The best encouragement that you can give me is a review. **__It lets me know you care about the story and that the time I put into writing is worthwhile. *hugs*_


	6. Chapter 6

_Dark Storm Rising _

_All or Nothing at All_

_Chapter 6_

_A/N: *bear hugs* Thanks for all of the encouragement during my recent surgeries. I'm sorry if I haven't responded to each review as I usually do. But I did read every single one, and appreciate that you care! I'm home now, and as long as the pain meds hold out and my kids let me, I'll write. I use an Old Norse dictionary to get my Old Norse. According to my source, " sváss" means "beloved."_

___Berserkers_ were Norse warriors who fought in a nearly uncontrollable, trance-like fury.

_A little hint…remember what Niall said about Kirsten in Understanding?_

_The American-style foxtrot, for me, is the ultimate, classy romantic dance--a la Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers…LOL of course Sookie's girls can dance their tushies off! Here's a nice foxtrot to watch (www dot you tube) /watch?v=q-OcH2oxXJY&feature=related(unless you want to watch Billy Ray Cyrus butcher it on Dancing With the Stars). I'll put a link to Frankie singing "All or Nothing at All" on my profile ;-) I'll put a link to the Rammstein song too._

_The song that Kirsten sings is beautifully performed by Eivør Palsdottir sung in Faroese--Min Moðir --(you tube dot com) /watch?v=0k8WD1gx8mg&NR=1 or you can check out (you tube dot com) /watch?v=BsvoBvheKEE&feature=related_

_CH's characters are hers and hers alone. My characters, and the concept of Daughters of the Blood, are mine and mine alone._

**Thanks to AmaZen for her time, patience, wit, wisdom, and eagle eyes.**

******************************  
**Am I pretty  
then cut up my face  
am I stronger  
break my neck in disgrace…  
Do I have smooth skin  
pull it off in strips  
Do I have clear eyes  
take the light from me  
Do I have a pure soul  
kill it in flames  
I take your wife, then  
kill me and eat me up completely  
then eat me up completely  
but lick up the plate  
we're cooking jealousy**

Eifersucht (Jealousy) by Rammstein

_***********************************************_

_Vamp Royalty at eleven o'clock! _

Adele's mental poke interrupted Kirsten's polite exchange with a vamp shipping magnate and his human mistress. Her breasts tingled against the shear fabric of her blouse as Toller's appreciative gaze traveled from her platform heels, up the length of her shapely legs, past the swell of her breasts, and rested upon her face. His lithe body moved toward her with fluid strides, as her father moved into position to greet and make introductions.

"Adele, Kirsten, his royal majesty Toller Hammarskjöld, King of Sweden and Denmark."

The girls curtsied gracefully. They had curtsied to kings and queens most of their lives and understood every nuance of royal etiquette. Toller bowed to Adele and smiled, "My lady, I wish you joy in your new alliance with the king of Texas."

Kirsten masked her inner turmoil with a warm smile. Adele's engagement was still a family matter and not yet general knowledge. If Faðir had informed Toller, or if Toller had taken the trouble to discover the Northman's alliances, his interest in her as a mate was definite.

He lifted Kirsten's hand and brushed it with his lips, " My lady Kirsten, my pleasure." He murmured with the blandest of expressions upon his face. He was teasing her again. He had touched her, intimately by vampire standards, and Faðir hadn't objected, so her suspicions had been correct. As if on cue Pam approached, and curtseyed to the king, "Forgive my interruption your majesty, Eric I'm afraid that there's an urgent call..."

The band was playing the fist strains of an American style foxtrot to Frank Sinatra's "All or Nothing at All." Adele was led to the dance floor by the shipping magnate. Toller smiled and held out his hand, "Shall we?"

Toller slipped his left hand under Kirsten's left arm, pressed his right palm against her left shoulder blade, and began the dance's slow quick, quick promenade. Kirsten's emotions whirled and skidded as she placed her right hand on Toller's while resting her left lightly upon his broad shoulders. There was something so easy and familiar about this tall stranger. It was as if the thought had been spelled out in invisible brushstrokes; she only needed to work the magic that would make its meaning visible. She couldn't help but smile up at him as he spun her expertly. They were both excellent dancers, and Toller's body fit the long, slow movements perfectly. As he led, his pleasure radiated outward, until she smiled up at him, lost in the joy of their dance. Featherlike laugh lines crinkled around his eyes as he bent and whispered, "You are an excellent dancer my lady; let's show them how it's done." The other dancers gave them room as they launched into intricate variations that ended with Toller spinning and dipping Kirsten to resounding laughter and applause.

As he held her beneath him, her intoxicating scent enhanced by the heat from her glowing, golden body, Toller longed to take her somewhere private, strip her naked, and take her again and again. He listened to her heart, the rapid thud of her pulse as she implored him with her eyes to maintain decorum. Although it had never been established that the girls had telepathic links with anyone outside of their immediate family, Toller was almost certain that Kirsten Northman would hear him. Her cheeks colored under the heat of his gaze as he sent her the thought, _Don't fight, you want this too! Look inside of yourself and you'll know that I'm right._

The next second she was on her feet smiling at her guests. A waiter appeared and Toller accepted a glass of Royalty while Kirsten sipped Perrier from an Austrian crystal goblet.

They walked out of the hall and beyond the patio to the special guests' private water garden. A name slipped through her thoughts and disappeared as his cool, smooth fingers brushed across her shoulders bringing her closer. Her head fit perfectly into the hollow between his shoulder and neck as he whispered into her hair, "You've washed his scent off--permanently, I hope?"

Kirsten snorted and took a step back, regarding him speculatively. A wry glint appeared in her eyes. His eyes, almost luminous in the moonlight, widened. He'd heard her thoughts.

_Your Majesty, don't! It means nothing to you…it's different for me…_

She let him feel the tip of her pain and humiliation as a warning. She could, very rarely, speak telepathically her own father, but Toller_ heard_ her; that alone set alarm bells ringing.

Toller reached out slowly, giving Kirsten time to step back if she desired. Already, without realizing it, she had trusted him with her innermost feelings. He gently cupped her chin until her eyes met his and spoke to her in Old Norse, his voice low and husky.

"Kirsten, sváss, what you feel, what you _are_, means everything to me. No man would willingly reject you, even that foolish Were boy. But, for me, you are much more than you could ever be for any other… I have waited lifetimes…"

He paused; his eyes probed to her very soul. "You are a priestess of the goddess Freya. I too am a follower of the Aesir gods. I was summoned to the sacred grove by a Great One. Our wyrds are crossed. Look within yourself, look to the goddess, and you will know the truth."

As he spoke, Kirsten studied his face, feature by feature, searching for the soul she somehow recognized behind the beautiful, oddly familiar mask.

Toller closed his eyes and shuddered when her trembling fingers touched his cheek. She spoke into his mind in Old Norse. There were too many eavesdroppers. Even here, under her father's roof, it was unclear who could be trusted.

_I'll go to the grove tonight and ask for guidance-- there's something between us--like the pull of the tide._

Her eyes searched his face. Toller nodded his permission. His head fell back in ecstasy as he felt his beloved's presence within him, completing him, making him whole for the first time in over a millennium. Tears streamed down Kirsten's face as she felt his love, felt the truth of a love that linked them beyond time.

She felt his steadying presence as she groped blindly for a way to open memories just beyond her recall. Then, he handed her a key.

_Sing the old song for me…the first song you learned in the old tongue._

Kirsten nodded, and without embarrassment began to sing softly in her clear, rich voice. Power flowed around her as she sang of the Mother; the Goddess heard and opened the eyes of her soul :

Mín móðir hon er sum ein drotning, Hon er sum tað vakrasta lag  
Mín móðir hon er﻿ sum ein blóma, Hon er sum eitt livandi træ  
Mín móðir er heim mítt kæra, Mín móðir mítt tryggasta stað  
Mín móðir er bjartasta glæman, Hon lýsir mær døkkan veg  
Min móðir er sterkasta hondin, Trygt heim aftur leiðir hon meg

[My mother is like a queen, she is like the fairest melody.  
My mother is like a flower, she is like a living tree.  
My mother is my dear home, my mother is my safest place.  
My mother is the brightest glow, she lights my darkened﻿ road.  
My mother is the strongest hand, safely, she guides me back home.]

She was vaguely aware of her father's presence, of her sister, of Toller, and of the swirl of beings enjoying the reception. Unseeing, she stared past them all. Her eyes clouded with visions of a time and place so far removed that the scent of the air and land was both alien and startlingly familiar.

_There were huts, a vast forest of conifers. Her well oiled, fur lined boots, sank deeply into new snow. She was dressed in furs and the air was so cold it stung her nostrils. Smoke rose from the huts toward leaden clouds that promised another storm. In the depths of the forest, a lone wolf howled like a damned soul. The village was too still. Then she looked toward the huts and saw crimson stains in the snow, saw the bodies, became aware of the sharp iron tang of blood._

_She touched her neck and felt the leather cord and the leather casing where the ancient ritual knife hung in its red sheath. Other than the child within her, it was her most precious possession. Her focus shifted, and she watched the broad fur clad back of her mate as he sharpened the blade of his battle ax against a whetstone. She called out to him, and he turned around to look directly at her with, intense dark blue eyes. He spoke in the old tongue, "It will return at nightfall. You must go to safety now as we agreed…" _

"_My place is by your side. I'm priestess born! We'll fight together!"_

_Her mate's eyes became hard, his voice harsh and desperate, " It is the only way…go for the one you carry, if not for yourself."_

_Her own voice was hoarse from grieving over the dead ones, "No! I won't leave you!"_

_He waded through the snow, his movements stiff from a wound upon his thigh, and cupped her chin, "Sváss, we are all that are left. You carry the future within you. Go now! If I don't come to you by daybreak, make for Olaf's camp, they will welcome you." She wanted to protest, but he had already turned. The wind howled and a veil of snow blinded her as she turned to do his bidding, her tears freezing before they could trickle down her cheeks._

She hesitated, torn by conflicting emotions to stand by her mate or obey his command. She felt the screams of frustration at the back of her throat and clamped a hand over her mouth as her vision cleared. Her troubled spirit quieted as she gazed into her mate's eyes…into Toller's eyes as he pulled her into the circle of his arms in the water garden of her father's casino.

"You see now,sváss. We've found each other." Her mind registered the significance of his words as her soul confirmed their truth.

Adele's alarmed mental touch was like a dash of cold water. There was an ominous crackle beneath its surface. Del was a gentle soul, but like her mother, she'd defend her own to the death with her considerable powers.

_WTF is he up to Kirs? You just went postal! I'm coming out there now. If Pappa knew…_

_Del, if you want to help, ward the patio and the garden. Distract Faðir for a few minutes. I have to handle this. I'll explain later…promise…_

The alarmed young woman that she was in this life was unwilling to face Toller, but her ancient soul refused to let her turn away.

She brushed her fingers against his cheek. The feather-touch of his lips upon hers sent a shock wave through her body. He pulled her closer and showered kisses around her lips and along her jaw, until she pulled back reluctantly.

"Toller, I need time to process this. All my life I've lived with vamp and Fae magics-- with parents who are blood bonded. So I know what this isn't. It isn't glamour," her lips quirked, "because you can't do that to me. It isn't a blood bond. But, we _are _bound."

Toller nodded and brushed his fingers gently across her cheek.

"Through many lives…."

Del's mental prod interrupted them.

_Kirs! You need to get back in here now! Our vamps can't quite see y'all because of my ward, and Pappa's mighty antsy all of a sudden because of that phone call, I guess!_

An urge welled up in her. "I'll go to our grove tonight to sort this out. I have to go back inside now."

A probing query came into his eyes.

_But we will talk tomorrow night._

She found it impossible not to return his disarming smile.

_OK. Tomorrow night. Around 1 AM. My father will be delighted; but expect a chaperone!_

Toller mingled amiably with the other guests content to watch Kirsten perform her duties as hostess. The appreciative looks that other men gave her didn't trouble him. Now that he knew that she too felt the pull that held their souls in orbit about one another, they could build a future together.

After Toller and his retinue had bid their farewells, Kirsten and Adele approached Eric. The evening had gone well, and his position as Sheriff had been strengthened by the event. He was especially happy about the interactions between King Toller and Kirsten. Toller had been captivated by Kirsten immediately, but something of significance had passed between them. It was now obvious that Kirsten was attracted to Toller. When she asked whether she could go to the sacred grove on their estate to discern her future, he had readily agreed. After arranging for a heavily armed contingent of vamps to accompany them, Eric started out for the airport with the remainder of his retinue to escort Sookie home. Then he and Sookie could celebrate this wonderfully successful night in each other arms.

*******************************

Kirsten Freya Northman sped down back roads towards their country estate. Clouds covered the moon and the night was quite dark, but that was no problem for the large contingent of flyers that accompanied them. Besides, the roads around the Northman estate were heavily guarded; they traveled toward the safety of their own home and the peace of the sacred grove that lay within its woods. The warm air streaming through the open windows smelled like rain, damp earth, and growing things. She loved late spring, but the lovely night was hardly on her radar. Like so many occurances in her supermatural world, her admission of a connection to Toller was dredged from a place beyond logic and reason.

Children of Bodom's "Triple Corpse Hammerblow" reverberated from the depths of Kirsten's purse. Adele began to rummage.

"Your purse is like the bowels of hell…damn… it's Jacques! Do you want me to answer it?"

"No!" Kirsten growled. The thought of Jacques brought on a fine, red rage. "I need to focus on other things right now. I just want to get to the grove, center myself, and get some guidance…"

They were entering deep woods thick with Spanish moss and towering trees. Both girls held their breath. The road ahead shimmered with magic. Both minds reached out simultaneously. Adele sucked in sharply and sent an urgent message to her parents.

_Shit! Where's everybody?_

Kirsten mind-scanned the area, searching for their retinue.

_Fuuuck! Gone!_

The dark seemed to thicken around the car. Then, the engine cut out.

Kirsten's nostrils flared. Adele gagged as the sharp, acidic stench overwhelmed them. Their thoughts flowed back and forth like water in a channel.

_Bad. And it ain't movie space aliens!_

_Nah, kickin' alien asses would be easier! This is real bad. Get out the throwing stars!_

Both girls palmed their Britlingen silver throwing stars and reached out with their minds. Many, many creatures from other realms surrounded them. Kirsten and Adele's breath quickened as they examined intense snarls of blood lust, rage, and plain old lust. Eric and many vamps were already on their way, but their father's rage and fighting skills were of no use to them now.

Sookie, was desperately trying to get their attention by performing the telepathic equivalent of screaming.

_HANG ON WE'RE COMING! WHAT'S OUT THERE?_

_Can't talk now mom…otherworld, real strong…stink's like fire demons!_

Adele turned to Kirsten her eyes huge, her hands already beginning to glow.

_Fight or flight?_

_How about we try both…if they're what we think they are staying in the car's gonna get us killed._

Both girls kicked off their useless heels. Del's hands flared and sparked, as Kirsten grabbed the big steel hunting knife she kept under the driver's seat.

_It's steel so it might work…_

The many creatures in the dark licked their lips and prepared for battle as they felt the girls' hearts race. They would feed on their fear, and their mission would be completed in seconds. Kirsten and Adele stared at each other for a second, then reached for their door handles…

_OK on the count of one, two, three…_

They sprang out of the doors. Kirsten assumed a battle stance, while Del began channeling as soon as her feet hit the earth. The power to gather, channel and direct pure energy from the earth was Adele's great gift. Contending magics crackled making the air glow like the aurora borealis. The sulfurous smell became overwhelming and Del gagged, then vomited. Although Niall had called her the most powerful Fae channeler in a millennium, the demon magic was overwhelming her ability to focus for channeling.

Kirsten rounded the car and stood next to her sister. _What's wrong?_

Adele hesitated—_It's not just the demons. There's Fae magic and something stronger…can you feel it?_

Kirsten growled softly as she scented strange Vamps.

_Yeah something real big and bad…Enemy vamps too. _

She gripped Adele's waist. _Send the fear this way Del, and I'll send you something more useful. Please, focus! We can fight…we've trained all of our lives for this!_

_No Kirs! It'll make you weaker…_

Shadowy hulks snarled, low and deep to their right and left.

_Send the fear NOW—I'll deal with it…LET IT GO!_

Del's terror washed over Kirsten making her gasp as she fought to master it. Then things started to happen very fast. They were stuck in the dead center of a supernatural storm and the tornado was headed their way.

Moving at lightning speed a female Vamp sliced Adele's right arm then rounded on Kirsten, forcing her to engage. Kirsten shrieked with fury and slashed viciously at the Vamp's exposed stomach. As she twisted away Kirsten ducked, lunged and sliced into her side. The Vamp tried to retreat but Kirsten pursued, chopping her blade outward in a horizontal arc to nick her enemy's neck.

The female laughed coldly.

"Stupid fledging! You sister is already dead!"

Kirsten launched a throwing star at the escaping Vamp and was rewarded with a howl of surprise. She then took two staggering steps back when Del screamed.

Huge shaggy forms separated the sisters as a snarling blur of claws, teeth and hair struck Adele knocking her to the ground. The creature was growing with lust. It ripped away Adele's dress and pressed its knees into her sister's spread thighs. Adele fought back, but without being able to draw upon the earth's energy, she might as well have beaten upon a mountainside. Adele's terror flooded Kirsten's brain. Adele shrieked as the creature penetrated, impaling her on its straining shaft. It thrust wildly as it grunted with lust.

Kirsten cried out, opened her mind and called the goddess down into herself, "Lady Freya—of the Valkyrie—guide me…take me…I am yours!"

Kirsten shrieked like a Fury as the battle rage took her. Berserker rage boiled through her blood as she launched herself onto the demon's back, plunging the knife into the bellowing demon's neck and slicing its head off with preternatural strength. Its dark blood exploded over her as she plunged the steel into its back again and again; each blow delivered with more hatred.

Covered with its stinking blood, she kicked the body aside and grabbed Adele's hands. Adele's eyes were wild with shock and pain, but this was no time for consolations.

Kirsten tapped into her sister's mind letting the strength and fury of the goddess flow into her. Adele snarled—a while light blazed out from her as she pulled the currents of power from the earth and the air, twisting them together, containing them, and then launching the bound energies out at the howling demons that surrounded them. Three were blown back with huge smoking holes in their chests hitting the tree trunks with sickening thuds.

Like a wildfire, red Berserker rage penetrated every fiber of Kirsten's being. Her fangs descended. She felt blood lust and was consumed with the need to kill. She perceived her enemies perfectly and lashed out at them, her knife slicing and hacking. Her thoughts were coming now in the old language, the language of the goddess, and of her kinsmen. The female Vamp was wounded, badly enough to have retreated. Kirsten grinned, but she hadn't escaped through whatever portal had been opened between worlds. She scented another Vamp among the demons and magic of an alien being. There was a brief lull. She held the head of one demon by its stiff crest of rough hair.

Finally, the cavalry arrived. Before they even landed, she could feel the fury of Faðir, Toller, and Pam. There were a hundred vamps flying, rushing past at racecar speed—not quite a blur to her heightened senses. All hell was breaking loose again, but this time the battle was in their favor. It was blood time. This was Freya's time, Thor's time, Odin's time Eric took one agonized glance at his daughters and bellowed a war cry. Pam shrieked and threw Kirsten a sword. Kirsten laughed in her battle rage throwing the head into the wood where the remaining demons crouched hesitating. Their attack —she caught the word 'abduction' -- on two lone girls had not gone as planned. She pulled the sword back like a batter waiting for the pitch. Loving the heft of the hilt and the smell of the steel, Kirsten taunted them.

"Come on lovers! You want to fuck me too? I'm waiting for you!"

Suddenly another portal opened and fresh wave of demons boiled out bellowing like bulls.

The ground trembled as a tsunami of energy was sucked out from beneath them. The air crackled as magics were strained and broken. Pam and Eric cried out.

Adele was encased in blinding light, her head arched back like a swan as she gathered the elements into herself. Her mind touched her mother's, father's, sister's, Pam's, and finally caressed Stan's as he stood desolate over three hundred miles away. She whispered, "I love you. Get ready…"

Eric eyes blazed " My little one, no!" Still, he tensed ready to spring.

Adele cried out as huge cables of crackling energy rushed from her body through her out stretched hands, snaking through the woods to find and bind each bellowing demon, knock each rogue vampire unconscious, and draw them forward in a heap.

Eric roared "Now!" The vamps went berserk--hacking, rending, biting, and shredding sinew from bone. Bits of demon and demon blood were flung about like debris in a tornado.

A huge demon broke free of its bonds and circled Kirsten snarling; its talons extended –yellow eyes rimmed with red. Its thoughts slithered through her defenses, trying to sway her with its own form of glamour.

It's dark, oily voice urged, "If I cannot take you, I'll kill you. Put down your sword."

Freya's energy streamed through Kirsten. Her blade dripped with dark, demon blood as she surged forward. She thrust her sword into one of the demon's minions, just as her father and Toller drove their swords into the demon commander's back, driving it howling to the ground. Snarling with contempt, Toller kicked and the demon lost consciousness.

The woods were absolutely silent after the battle. Pam appeared in a blur of motion.

"They're all dead except for this demon and the rogue vamps." She hooted gleefully, "The rogues are in considerable discomfort. I can't wait to...question them... later."

Marcus and Thalia appeared. Both had been wounded. Marcus appeared to be burnt. Eric wanted to kill these things slowly...very slowly...perhaps one century for every second of agony his Adele had endured. Stan and Prince Niall would claim a hand in this vengeance as well. Eric grinned fiercely, together they would squeeze every drop of information from their enemies. Then, the shit would have centuries to beg for their deaths. He nodded at Marcus and Thalia.

"Get this filth out of here. You know where to bring them. Pam, stay with Adele until I come."

Kirsten sank to her knees. As she felt the goddess's energy slip from her she beheld a tall beautiful woman wearing ancient armor. The woman's voice was rich and golden like honey, "Min dotter." She felt a slight burning sensation between her eyebrows as the goddess Freya kissed her forehead. Then she was in her father's arms.

"Min dottir, hur mår du?"

She couldn't open her mouth to tell him—she was beyond knowing how she felt, still lost in the magic and barely conscious that she was half naked and covered with blood..

Toller took off his shirt and Eric wrapped it gently around her. She couldn't think in English, only the old tongue, the language her father had spoken to her since birth. She drew a shuddering breath. Panic filled her eyes. For the first time in her life she was not aware of her sister's presence.

"I can't hear 'Del, Pappa. I can't feel her!"

Eric cursed. His brows drew together in an agonized expression.

"Your majesty, please take care of my daughter Kirsten, I must go to Adele; she's been badly wounded."

Toller cradled Kirsten against himself. "Go Eric. It is my privilege to care for a maiden of the Lady Freya."

Toller's eyes shone with pride and tenderness. "You'll make a great queen, my sváss."

Kirsten grabbed her father's hand, her eyes suddenly glacial, "Don't kill her!"

Eric paused and stroked Kirsten's hair back from her forehead, "What do you mean dear one?"

Kirsten fangs seemed to grow longer and her eyes blazed with hate. "Keep her well enough to fight. The rogue bitch that cut Del is mine! She'll be my first offering to Hel!"

Eric nodded and smiled grimly. "I will consider what you say. Such an offer to the goddess has not been made in centuries. The rite, if followed in all its particulars, would please us all."

Kirsten's fangs retracted. She shook uncontrollably. Adele's absence from her consciousness was a monstrous, vacant abyss. It would be so easy to plunge into that void and forget and be still. She drew a shuddering breath and allowed herself to sink into the cavernous darkness. Power still surged from her in little waves. Someone was calling her in the old tongue.

"Kirsten Erichdotter wake…"

She felt Toller's arms around her. His voice drew her. Glacial blue eyes gazed into deep blue eyes as magic surged around them. The hidden name of the woman she had been came to her as she spoke in the old tongue.

"I am Selin that was. We have journeyed together through many lives. This is our wyrd."

Toller smiled and kissed her gently and reverently upon the forehead where the goddess had left her mark.

"I am Toller Hammarskjöld that is and was—"

His arms tightened and cradled her against him as he whispered into her hair, "I had almost lost hope that you would return to me."

Before Kirsten lost consciousness, she felt him lift off the ground—holding her against him as he flew into the night.

*************************

*sniffs* I know, poor Del! But the Northmans are a force to be reckoned with, and the war had just begun!

**Please give me the gift of your review.** I wrote this on bed rest! The gods will bless you :-D


	7. Chapter 7

Dark Storm Rising

Chapter 7

**A/N: **_** Thanks for all of your PMs, reviews, putting DSR on your story alert, or making it a fav fic! Y'all are awesome for giving the next gen characters a chance. Rest assured that Stan loves Del and will never abandon her and that Toller and Kirs also have LTR. Eric & Sook, well LTR forever, but nor without their own issues! That said, the Northman clan has a very tough row to hoe and the attack is just the tip of the iceberg. Oh, for those of you jonesing' for ESN, TKN, or SAN, I promise that there will be all sorts of nook down the line, and it will sizzle! **__**Right now…to war! In my AU universe, Del can ward her scent (inherited this ability from the Prince), so Claudine can ward as well (also inherited from the Prince).**_

_**Special thanks to AmaZen, beta and copy healer extraordinaire! I want to give a special shout out to my girl, FDM who betas Brandywine Battlefields, my non ff manuscript and keeps me motivated. You two are my Mensa muses--the best of the best!**_

_**CH's characters are hers. My characters and the concept of Daughters of the Blood are mine.**_

_****************************_

**O Rose, thou art sick!**

**The Invisible worm,**

**That flies in the night,**

**In the howling storm,**

**Has found out thy bed**

**Of Crimson joy;**

**And his dark secret love**

**Does thy life destroy.**

**_William Blake_ - _"The Sick Rose"_**

********************************

In a wild frenzy of fury and fear, Stan Davis spurred his stallion to his private airfield, and leaped off of Iron Age's back shouting instructions to return him to the stables. He felt Del's apprehension, then the rush of her magic and a wave of adrenaline as she prepared to fight. He cursed the fact that he was not by her side as he felt the rogue's knife slash her, and roared when he felt her terror, pain and despair as the demon forced itself into her. He snarled with fury and sent Del his fiercest resolve_. _

_Don't give up! Don't give in! I'm coming!_

Then a towering white hot rage, Kirsten's rage, replaced her fear. Kirsten was feeding Del the will to fight -- she was alive!

Stan's keen eyes glowed silver with a dangerous ferocity as he stormed aboard his private jet. Siobhan, his second, raced up and touched his arm. "Your majesty," Stan grasped her forearm, his tone savage.

"Del's been attacked! Contact Northman. Get my weapons! I want a battalion in the air and on their way to Shreveport within half an hour. You're in charge until I return. "

"If you bring troops into De Castro's territory without his consent, he may consider it an act of war."

The cold steel in Stan voice made her shiver. Felipe might well rue his decision to limit the number of Stan's vamps who accompanied Adele back to Louisiana.

"Fuck De Castro! If anything happens to Del because he failed to protect her, I'll have his flaking skull on a pike!"

As the plane taxied down the runway, Stan felt Del's sweet presence reaching out to him. As she strained to contain massive elemental energies, he felt her brace herself.

_I love you. Get ready._

He shouted as a tsunami of power poured out of her. Then, there was only the roar of engines as the plane lifted into the night.

***************************************

The pain in Adele's right arm exploded. Searing poison boiled through her body, constricting her heart. Drained by her injuries, she was more disoriented with each passing second. Then the wind was knocked out of her as the howling fire demon ripped off her clothing and shoved its hairy knees between her thighs. Suffocating in its fetid, sulfurous essence, Del fought weakly, screaming as a sharp, searing pain tore into her.

Then Kirsten buried her knife in the howling creature's back again and again. As it reared back in pain, Kirsten grabbed its stiff black crest, and sliced its head off with inhuman strength. Pushing the battle fury to her sister, Kirsten hauled Adele to her feet. Pain and despair dissolved into rage and resolve as Del felt, then blocked her mother's fear and anger.

Just then Faðir arrived with his retinue. With a ringing war cry he slammed into a cluster of snarling demons, killing their leader with one brutal upward thrust. His sword was a blur as heads fell, guts spilled, and hairy limbs flew in every direction. Resonant growls built in the vampire warriors' throats, their forms a pale blur as they sprang upon the demons. Shrieks, growls, and war cries filled the night along with the sibilant hiss of swords, and the rending of muscle and bone. The demons' hideous , leers turned to a collective rictus of fear as the vamps hammered into their ranks until the ground was slick with dark, demonic blood. Unprepared for the assault, the remaining demons attacked clumsily, but with power, bellowing and swinging huge clubs, decapitating any vampire not quick enough to dodge the blow.

Even as they died, Adele felt a new pressure building: countless demons were ready to burst through a second portal like pus erupting from a festering boil. Though weakened and not yet fully ready, only Adele in all of Midgard and Alfheim could hope to channel enough power to bind the demonic horde.

Knowing that saving the people she loved might consume her, Del poured all her remaining strength into drawing the essence of earth, air, fire, water, blood, and spirit out of the dark and gore-drenched soil.

Her spirit core burned white-hot as she brought forth great cables of rippling energy to bind the powerful demons. She held the channel open as long as she could, until something broke inside her and she felt herself slide into a fiery pit of agony.

Suddenly Faðir was there with Pam, and almost at the same instant, her Fae kinswoman Claudine. She felt her mother frantically touch her mind…but was far too weak to transmit an answer.

_Del, baby, hang in there. Dad's bringing you home. Hang on for me…I'll be waiting…_

With a cool hand on Adele's burning forehead, Pam hissed with fury as she took in Del's wounds and already blackening bruises. The demon's stench surrounded her and she was still bleeding from the brutal rape.

"I'll slice those demon bastards' into slivers for eternity…starting with their cocks and balls!"

Eric knelt beside Adele, eyes silvery and fangs extended as he examined her wounds minutely. He thought of Del as a newborn, her fern-green eyes gazing at him tranquilly the very first time he held her; twinkling with excitement as they exchanged Yule gifts and radiant with joy as she displayed her pledge ring. He gently touched the gash in her forearm, growling and cursing. The rogue bitch who cut her tendons would suffer for this. Kirsten had claimed the rite of ordeal and offering, and so he must preserve the evil cunt. But she would endure much torment, regenerate, and suffer more, before that.

"There was poison on the blade. Iron in a liquid form. It's invading her body," said Claudine.

He needed to speak with Niall. This was more than a rival vampire's retaliation. The forces unleashed upon his daughters were guided by something darker, vaster, and far older than the oldest vampire.

Suddenly Eric's focus returned to Del, as her eyes fluttered open. He cradled her against him and smiled down at her as he gently stroked her hair and raised her hand to his cool cheek.

Blood trickled from her mouth. She gazed back at her father, too exhausted to project her thoughts as his rage and anguish washed over her. He knew there was much strength in that delicate body; enough strength to overcome the cut and the rape in time. But her body had not been prepared for the tremendous energies she had wielded out of love. He recalled the two visions he had received; one at the time of the girls' birth and the other which he and Sookie had witnessed just the other day. Del acted today just as she had in the vision yet there was a difference--in the vision Del had stood against armies that spanned the nine worlds. Eric kissed Adele's hand, and blocked his thoughts. He didn't want her to hear what he had decided, that he would turn her before letting her die. Instead, he stroked her cheek and hoped that she saw his overwhelming love for her

"Min lilla flicka. I'll be with you very soon." He nodded at Claudine.

Claudine placed her hand against Adele's chest. "Del, mo chroi, can you hear me?"

Tears slid from her eyes, "I have to move her now. There's more damage than you realize..."

Eric nodded and tenderly lifted Adele into Claudine's arms. "Dr. Ludwig's on her way. Take her home."

Without another word, Claudine and Adele vanished.

*****************************************

Sookie bit her lower lip and paced the vast front room of their fortified home, shifting between incandescent furies and sheer terror. He'd done it again! Fucking treated her like a lesser being. It had been years since this had last happened, but the humiliation was just as bitter. They had enjoyed but one tender kiss at the airport - a promise to get thoroughly reacquainted - when all hell had broken loose. Adele's SOS had come through loud and clear.

With a curse, Eric rallied his retainers. Sookie moved to join them, but Eric had passed her to Felicia instead.

"Take my wife home and wait for us!"

Sookie had looked at Eric with wild eyes, "Eric, no! I'm coming with you. Our girls need me! I can channel. I can fight!"

Eric's arms encircled her, pressing her against him as he gently captured her lips.

"No. You will heed me in this, min älskare. The battlefield is no place for a pregnant woman. I know every scent of your moon-blood cycle. And I know when you're pregnant."

Sookie's eyes widened, "There's no way…"

Eric eyes hardened, "I know. Can you deny it?"

Sookie's silence spoke volumes.

Eric hugged her resisting body against him and tilted her chin slightly, "My lover, you are a strong, fierce fighter. No one is braver than you. But there are stronger soldiers. Think of our child growing within you! Del and Kirs are in danger. I have to go -- now!" His face grew harsh with anguish.

"I'd never forgive myself if I put you and the baby in harm's way! I swear that I'll bring our daughters home to you."

Eric kissed Sookie hungrily before releasing her and rocketing into the night.

Sookie stood next to Felicia, knowing her guardian would keep her safe. But their girls! Eric had said he would bring them home; he hadn't said "safely" or even "alive".

So now she was home. Spread over a hundred acres of wooded terrain, meadows, and cultivated farm land, their country estate was a haven of peace surrounded by an invisible fortress of magic and vigilance. Amelia, now a much respected senior witch, had warded it heavily and it was guarded night and day by Fae and Vampire.

Before ever meeting Bill or Eric, Sookie had dreamed of a strong and loving family—of a husband who cherished her and children to love. And she had received those things. She knew that when she chose Eric, she had to accept a life in two worlds and a home that truly came alive after twilight. For the girls, daddy just got up at night. There was school, and sports, music and friends and then there was the world of Prince Niall and the Vamps, of martial and magical training no human girl would ever receive. Eric and Sookie had enjoyed 18 years of relative peace. Beyond the usual teenage strife, their lives had been steady and tranquil. They attended Adele's concerts, cheered as Kirsten was hoisted on her teammate's shoulders, and watched proudly as their daughters received high school diplomas. They had been overwhelmed by congratulation and gifts when the girls turned eighteen.

There were so many unbelievably powerful beings protecting them that it had been easy to forget the bad old days of being beaten, staked, bitten, poisoned, and drained. It was a truth that Sookie had learned well, but had chosen to push aside—magic borrowed is magic owed; now, something infinitely evil had come to collect.

Pam's Mercedes crunched up the gravel drive with Dr. Maryanne Ludwig barely visible in the passenger seat. Dr. Ludwig nodded to Sookie as she entered, preoccupied with what Pam had described of the ambush.

"Pam says there's a bedroom with twin beds on this floor? I need to set up now."

"Yes, it's this way…Dr. what can I…" Sookie paused ...her girls were here. The door burst open as King Toller strode in with Kirsten. Sookie rushed to her bleeding and semiconscious daughter, stroking her head and kissing her pale cheeks.

"She's drenched in sweat. I've never felt her so cold."

Dr. Ludwig gave Kirsten a sharp-eyed appraisal.

"Get her into the room." She glanced at Pam and Sookie. "Stay with her. This nightmare has brought on the change. It shouldn't have happened for a few years yet. She'll turn tonight."

Sookie's brows creased in genuine alarm, but Pam's eyes blazed with a fierce joy.

Sookie's heart began to race. _No, no, no! I'm not ready for this…Kirs isn't ready…this isn't supposed to happen for years!_

Another fact she had pushed to the back of her consciousness had been dragged forward. Kirsten's change, like death itself, was an inevitable reality. Her heart would beat more slowly, her organs and body would alter to accommodate her long existence, her perceptions would sharpen, and her fangs would descend.

Kirsten was the first full Daughter of the Blood to be born in nearly a century. Despite the horrific circumstances of her change, vampires would consider her Crossing Over a cause for celebration.

Claudine appeared next with Adele, limp as a rag doll and wrapped in a deep blue cloak.

Tears trickled down the fairy's cheeks, "I'm so sorry Sookie. Dr Ludwig can examine Adele, but she cannot stay here if you want her to live the night. My Lord, the Prince, is coming."

Claudine laid Adele on the other bed. Ludwig unwrapped the cloak and began her examination, lips pressed together and shaking her head. In her haste to deliver Adele, Claudine had not fully warded her scent, and Pam had dropped into vampiric down time to master her primal urge to consume her.

Toller had gone to investigate the area where the girls were attacked. He promised to return before dawn and stay in one of several vampire-safe guest rooms.

Claudine knelt beside Sookie and hugged her as she perched on the edge of the bed stroking Adele's hair and face. Her flushed cheeks were on fire, her breathing very shallow. Sookie felt her heart shatter as she took in the terrible bruising on Adele's thighs. She closed her eyes and allowed herself one harsh sob, then wiped her eyes and nose. She had to be strong for now. She reached out with her mind.

_Del? Baby, where are you?_

Adele had drawn far, far back into a remote corner of her consciousness, away from mental contact.

Unbearable horror had been visited upon her daughter. Although her beliefs demanded forgiveness, all she wanted now was to destroy with her own hands the thing that had done this to her gentle child.

Kirsten touched her mother's mind. Sookie reached out to take her hand, which was cool and firm despite what she had endured. Pam was holding Kirsten's other hand, as still as only a vampire can be.

_It's dead. I killed it. I wish I could kill it again and again. It didn't deserve such an easy death. I can't reach Del either._

Sookie felt waves of anger, fatigue, and anxiety rolling out of Kirsten until her daughter threw up a mental shield. The night's event had incinerated her teenage life and she just needed time to process. Her mother had once said that some folks are forced to grow up fast, and Kirsten knew she was one of them now. Her breakup with Jacques, frustration with her father, and gossiping with her friends were now sealed in a faraway past. Her body had begun to change and Kirsten knew that pain, both physical and emotional, lay just ahead.

Though much of what happened after she called the Goddess was beyond her understanding, she knew that somehow she had entered a deeper dimension of the supernatural realm. And then there was Toller—a stranger whom she felt she had known forever.

After taking in these new realities, she relaxed and allowed her mother in. Sookie raised an eyebrow. Kirsten locked eyes with her mother and Sookie marveled for the hundredth time how like Eric's they were. She smiled a little.

"Honey, you've got to rest."

"No. I need to know about Del first." Both women looked up suddenly…

"Faðir's coming…"

Sookie nodded, "Stan won't be far behind."

They locked eyes again as they both came to a sudden realization.

"Faðir will do it if he thinks it's the only way to save Del."

Sookie wanted to deny this, but despite their deep love and long and sometimes stormy relationship, she understood that Eric's formidable love and devotion was not that of a human father. She had never considered vampires any more evil than humans—but their nature was essentially different, their thoughts and values their own. Mainstreaming had only made them appear to comply with human standards. She felt a pain in her heart and a red anger that Eric might move on this without consulting her, because he knew she would never allow such a thing.

_Whoa girl. Haul back…Am I being honest with myself?_

Would she truly be willing to lose Adele—to let this beautiful soul slip into some unknown realm? Despite her beliefs, her fierce mother's heart wanted to hang on to her child by any means necessary.

And what father would refuse to save his own child? Kirsten was genetically fit for this change. It would be a difficult but natural transition, which Sookie would come to accept. But Adele, who could make a rose bud unfold its petals on her palm…whose magical core was so different…Sookie, knew without a doubt…

"It will kill her," she whispered.

Suddenly, Niall, Eric and Stan were there, filling the room with their fury and concern. The atmosphere crackled with tension and the frayed ends of spent magic. The Prince went first to Adele, placing both palms directly upon her collarbones and sighing deeply, and then to Kirsten. He kissed her lightly on the cheek and smiled.

"My brave one."

He kissed Sookie on the cheek, and nodded to Dr. Ludwig, who bowed deeply before she addressed them.

"The lady Adele must be moved to safety. First, the poison in her wound is chelated iron. It will cause more harm than the gash. Because Adele is not wholly Fae, a wound from an iron weapon wouldn't be enough to kill her. But liquid iron will destroy her cells easily, and that _will _kill her. The…other wounds…will heal but she will need much time and support to come to terms with what happened and find peace. As you know my Lord, her magical essence is compromised. I have never heard of any modern Fae withstanding so much energy. Binding the energies of all six elements has damaged her internal organs. I have contained the internal bleeding for now, but there is nothing more to be done for her here."

Stan gasped as the last thread of Del's magical ward dissolved. The room was filled with her rose scent mingled with her other essences: her skin glowed with Faery light, and delicate points adorned her ears.

Eric knelt beside Adele, inhaling her intoxicating fragrance for the first time since her birth. Stan held her other hand, gazing at her beauty with wonder and longing. Her scent was complex: sweetly Fae, but tinged with a vampiric cinnamon scent and a slightly human tang. She had never seemed more desirable, or more fragile. His heart clenched at the thought of losing her.

Eric gazed at his beloved daughter. He kissed Adele lightly and locked eyes with the Prince. He spoke, as if invoking a well-worn spell. "She _will not_ die. I am her sire. My blood will give her life."

Niall glowed with Fae fury.

"_Life?!_ Would you _kill_ your own daughter Viking? She_ cannot_ be turned – she _is not human_! She is a child of the Fae. Have you _ever_ heard of a turned Fae? The magic that created her has been breached. She will _die in your arms_ while you drain her! Would you kill your own daughter?"

Dr Ludwig confirmed. "It's true. And her organs are already failing."

Eric's face locked down--never a good sign, as Sookie knew all too well.

The prince glared. "Only in Alfheim will she survive and recover. You _must_ give her to me. This is her wyrd."

Eric knelt, immobile as a mountain.

Energy sparked and pulsed from the Prince's hands. He was older and more powerful than any being in the room.

"Your blood in her allows her to channel as no other ever has. But Adele is Fae. If you would have her live, you will allow us to heal her…"

Eric and Niall glared at each other. Pam leapt up and stood behind Eric. Claudine stood at the ready behind the Prince.

Suddenly Stan rose too. His eyes flashed between the Prince and Eric,

"I am Adele's pledged. I have a say in this matter," He smiled gently at Sookie, who nodded, "as does her mother. Take her to Alfheim."

The Prince regarded him skeptically, "You advocate removing her from Midgard?"

Stan looked down at Del, his rugged features transformed by love. "So long as she lives. I will let her go for as long as it takes, if she'll be safe and whole again."

Niall regarded him with grudging respect. "Then truly, you do love her."

Stan knelt beside Adele, and cupped her small, warm palm to his cool cheek.

_I love you Del. Come back to me._

But she couldn't answer….

Claudine sobbed. "She is approaching the Summerland!"

The Prince nodded. "I must take her _now_."

Dr. Ludwig cleared her throat.

"Viking, the Prince is correct. You cannot save her as you would a human or even your daughter Kirsten."

The tiny but indomitable Doctor locked eyes with Eric.

"You have my word of honor in this matter. Adele can receive no further help here. You must let her go. Too much time has been lost already."

Sookie knelt beside Eric, placing one hand on her daughter's and another on Eric's shoulder. Tears slid down her face.

"Eric _please_. We have to let her go."

Eric covered Sookie's small hand with his large one. He stared ahead while Sookie held her breath. She felt his shoulders slump a little and knew he had made the right decision.

Eric's accent came out, betraying the depth of his anguish.

"Yes. Adele should go…it seems that we must…release her into your care… I accept your word, and that of Dr. Ludwig."

He stood and gently lifted Adele kissing her one last time and passing her to the prince. Blue eyes blazed into the Prince's green.

"If she dies under your care, I _will_ kill you."

The Prince gazed back steadily, cradling Adele against him.

"I swear to you that she will live. But she must remain with us until our healers determine that she is fully recovered and can control her gift."

His gaze swept over the crowded room.

"With your permission."

Eric nodded.

Sookie stood and gave Adele one last kiss. Although her heart was breaking, Sookie forced herself to step back as Niall, Adele, and Claudine vanished in a flicker of light.

********************************

Ohhh...you know the captured "enemy combatants" aren't gonna enjoy their stay in Northman's basement! Things aren't cooling down anytime soon. Did Eric do the right thing w/regards to Sook, or is she justified in being more than a wee tad POed?

_**Thanks for reading and for giving me the gift of your review *hugs***_


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N**_**: **__Here's a giant note to set some things straight. When Kirsten crosses over, she doesn't turn like a human would. She already carries the vampire bloodlines._ _Even though vampire bloodlines run in her, Kirsten is not a vamp. She's more evolved magically speaking. Like a pure blood Were, she comes into her powers when she comes of age. Kirsten inherits all of the abilities Eric acquired over a millennium at their full strength. So, barring immortality, she has all the perks of being a vamp and none of the liabilities. So, she won't cry blood or have a blood lust (except during sex and battle LOL)_

_She'll most definitely be able to bear very strong children, eat, and be out and about during daylight hours. Also, apart from the dreams, which were eighteen years apart, Eric and Sook had __**no**__ way of knowing that there would be trouble. Millennia of Sons and Daughters of the Blood have been born, matured. and led fairly peaceful lives. _

_The girls, particularly Adele, have a mighty wyrd. Eric and Sookie are bound up in this destiny. The gods knew what they would need and made it so. "Wyrd" means destiny or karma__. Souls that are wyrd-bound are tied together from life to life. "Ord" means evil. Freya is the goddess of love and fertility, but being a Norse goddess, she is also a Valkyrie, a shield maiden, and a battle goddess. Ragnarok is the final battle between the gods and the forces of chaos. Loki is not truly one of the Aesir, the Norse Gods. but a Jotten, a giant like being. He represents duplicity and chaos and is bound until Ragnarok (the Norse end-times). _

**Countless thanks to AmaZen--mistress of the runes and beta goddess**

_As always, CH's characters are hers and hers alone. My characters and the concept of Daughters of the Blood are mine and mine alone._

_**********************************_

_**In the attics of my life, full of cloudy dreams unreal.  
Full of tastes no tongue can know, and lights no eyes can see.  
When there was no ear to hear, you sang to me.**_

_**I have spent my life seeking all that's still unsung.  
Bent my ear to hear the tune, and closed my eyes to see.  
When there were no strings to play, you played to me.**_

_**In the book of loves own dream, where all the print is blood.  
Where all the pages are my days and all the lights grow old.  
When I had no wings to fly, you flew to me, you flew to me.**_

_**In the secret space of dreams, where I dreaming lay amazed.  
When the secrets all are told, and the petals all unfold.  
When there was no dream of mine, you dreamed of me.**_

**Grateful Dead --"Attics of My Life"**

_**************************************************_

A stark silence followed Adele's departure. Eric sat on Adele's bed with his arm around Sookie. Adele's fragrance still sweetened the air. Sookie had never seen such gloom in her husband's eyes.

Dr. Ludwig packed her bag and stared pointedly at Sookie, "Kirsten needs to rest and so do you if you intend to be of any use to your daughter! She'll Cross during the day. A supe, someone strong, needs to stay with her. Claudine will do. The magics have sped up a process that is normally slow and subtle. Now, her Change will be painful because her body has to adjust so quickly to its new state. No human medicine is going to help her, but I've given her an herbal medication from Alfheim which will alleviate the worst pain."

Pam grabbed the keys from her purse.

"I'll bring the doctor home and go home to rest myself. I'll return immediately after waking. I've already made arrangements for King Felipe and his troops." She nodded at Stan. "He wasn't happy about your vamps being here, but he understands your concern."

Before departing, she patted Sookie's hand and kissed Kirsten lightly on the cheek.

"I'm so proud of you. Soon you will be well and truly ours. We will have our revenge. "

Kirsten squeezed her hand her eyes glacial, "I'll be fine and when it's over, I'll be ready for the kill."

Eric nodded.

"De Castro will arrive tomorrow with his fighters. Stan, yours are approved for two days as long as they remain in the vicinity of the attack. Have them secure the immediate area. We'll gather here tomorrow at full dark."

Kirsten stared at the empty bed, and sobbed raggedly. Sookie staggered to her feet and lay on the bed next to her daughter.

Both women wept bitterly--deep keening sobs and cries that tore at Eric's soul, bringing back memories of the way his mother Sigríð had wailed when the body of his older brother Áfastr was carried home with his neck half severed and his strong arms limp and bloody.

Eric had pledged himself and his line to the Aesir for eternity then, and Odin's runes were burnt on his forearms as signs of that oath; _UR _for strength, _TYR,_ for courage, _SIG_ for victory, _and OS_ for wisdom.

Not mere words but powerful energies, the murmuring Runes of the Universe were sacred archetypes deeply buried in every wyrd and had existed from the beginning of time.

With Odin's help he hunted down and destroyed his brother's killers.

Eric smiled grimly at Stan, "Perhaps you'd like to accompany me to visit our enemy."

Stan smiled broadly showing fang. "Nothing would please me more."

Eric's clenched his fists, betrayed his anger and frustration. He, who was always watching and anticipating, had failed his family. Adele, his little one, had been violated--his precious Kirsten was changing before her time and was already beginning to suffer great pain. Sookie's white-hot anger and immense sorrow flashed like lightning across their bond. But there was no time to comfort them now.

He knelt gently beside his wife and daughter stroking their golden hair.

"We have to go now. You must be strong for each other. We will have vengeance and victory."

Kirsten's eyes flashed. She grabbed Eric's hand. "Promise me again! The bitch is mine! I'll deliver her to the goddess!"

Eric stroked Kirsten damp hair and feverish forehead. "I promise you, min dottir. She will be acceptable when the time comes."

He gazed at Sookie. Her lips tightened as Kirsten groaned and clutched her waist.

"Make them pay for this."

"Oh, they will."

After Eric and Stan had gone, Sookie rubbed her face and tried to clear her mind. She and Eric needed to talk—he needed to tell her what he knew and what he suspected. And he needed to explain - very clearly - why he would have tried to turn Adele without consulting her. She needed to know how Eric could still be so high handed with her after all these years. She wasn't upset that he'd known she was pregnant, although that had been a shock. He was right, of course. The battlefield was no place for her. Years ago, she'd been terrified that she would miscarry the girls after being thrown against a tree and channeling in the thick of a battle against the Ulswater Fae. Niall Brigant's forces had imprisoned the surviving Ulswater Forces, including Sewell Ulswater, in Ginnungagap, a void separating the realm of ice from the realm of the fire Jotten.

"What if they escaped…or if someone broke them out…" she whispered

"What's that Sook?" Claudine had returned and was rubbing Sookie's back.

"The Ulswater Fae…Niall imprisoned Sewell Ulswater and his followers in a void. What if they escaped or if someone got them out?"

Claudine gave Sookie a startled look. "That's not possible! Ginnungagap is surrounded by sheer cliffs and warded. It is under constant watch. Only a deity could breach the wards." She shook her head. "I'll bring it up with my lord the Prince. You've got to get some rest Sook."

Sookie ached from her toes to her fingertips from lack of sleep. But, how could she leave her child?

"No. I've got to stay with Kirs. She needs me."

Claudine regarded Sookie with empathy.

"Remember what Dr. Ludwig said. Kirsten's change has hardly started. It will be worse later - she'll need you more then, and even more when it's over. You'll be no use to Kirsten if you don't rest and get your head together." Claudine lowered her voice dramatically "Besides you'll want to have your wits about you. You have every right to attend the war council tomorrow night."

The front door opened and closed as the air crackled with the presence of a powerful supernatural.

Claudine's nostrils flared and she hissed slightly. "It's a vampire. Toller. He couldn't have gotten through the house wards if he wasn't approved, but do you fully trust him?

Sookie sponged Kirsten's cool, sweaty forehead, with a warm wash cloth.

"He fought for the girls beside Eric and could have lost his life. He seems to genuinely care for Kirsten. Eric trusts him. I guess I do too."

Claudine nodded, "Time for me to go. No offense Sook, but I don't feel comfortable around vampires who aren't kin-connected, no matter how handsome they might be. I'll come back when he's gone."

Sookie rose and wiped her eyes as Claudine hugged her tightly.

Sookie shuddered. "How will we ever get through this? Nothing will ever be the same. Our girls will never be the same. We'll never be right again after this."

"Oh Sookie," Claudine sighed sympathetically. "We'll get through this. We'll make it right – you'll see." Then she vanished with a soft "pop".

Toller entered quietly and inclined his head formally. Sookie was deeply moved that the vampire king had shown her the same level of respect he would give a fellow monarch.

"May I sit by her?"

Sookie nodded and walked to the door, returning Toller's compliment with one of her own.

"I'll give you two some time alone."

Toller nodded gravely. "I am honored by your trust, my lady. Know that I would risk my life in her service."

Sookie paused, smiled, and allowed her hands to glow with Fae magic, "Yes, I _do _know, your Majesty."

Toller looked down at Kirsten and gently brushed the spot between her eyes with his lips. She was so impossibly beautiful. Strong and fiery, as his Selin had been. He regarded her golden beauty.

_But she isn't Selin; she is Kirsten that is._

Kirsten opened her eyes and smiled up at him. The soul shining from his dark blue eyes called to her. He spoke to her in the old language.

"The goddess has kissed your brow. You bear her mark; the triple spiral." He touched the mark gently. "She has marked you with her three aspects--the fire of battle rage, the fire of love, and the fire of the life force. It is a powerful claiming."

He raised his left forearm. Kirsten's eyes widened as she viewed the triple triangle, Odin's symbol, known as the Valnott.

Toller eyes flashed with wry humor. "I see you recognize the death knot. Odin's followers have a tendency to die violently, and I am no exception. But, even in this existence, I am a follower of the Aesir."

Kirsten raised an eyebrow.

"It's a good thing then…for me…"

"Yes min sváss, it is. But the gods don't meddle in our lives without purpose. And I fear for your part in this. I feel a great storm gathering. It will tear across the worlds …"

Kirsten clasped his hand; Toller put his other hand over hers.

"I can't remember everything that happened… but I was a woman called Selin…I was pregnant," Her breath caught in her throat. "I was your mate. Are our souls bound from life to life?"

His face lit up and his marvelous eyes shone, "Yes min sváss, we're bound. But this time, I have waited eleven centuries for you to return to me."

Kirsten's grip tightened. She grimaced and squeezed her eyes shut. Toller slid his arms around her and gently supported her. A white-hot rage coursed through him as he felt her body tense with spasms of the pain their enemies had forced upon her. That Kirsten Northman would be his, he did not doubt. And he believed she was beginning to realize that he was hers.

He would enjoy slaughtering all of the bastards who caused his woman agony.

Kirsten thought of Jacques, of sports, of making out in his car, and of the great times they had with their friends. It was like looking through the window at another world that she could no longer approach. She thought of the gloriously handsome man who held her, whose eyes spoke to her soul.

Toller mused that the gods were both kind and cruel. They had given his soul mate back to him so that they could stand on the brink together—as the worlds' clashed—and the roiling darkness of chaos boiled over all that was. But he would not tell her of this now. Toller removed a small red leather sheath suspended from a braided leather cord from beneath his shirt.

"I have a gift for you. Selin was also pledged to the goddess Freya."

He unsheathed the ritual knife given to a priestess of Freya upon her initiation. It was ancient, very sharp. The world serpent chased its tail around the hilt and runes ran down the center of the blade.

He slipped it around her neck, feeling the feathery touch of her golden hair as he brushed his lips against her soft skin. After the change she would still be alive, but she would wield the powers of an ancient vampire.

Kirsten touched the sheath. Waves of power rippled through her fingers. "I am not yet worthy to accept this, but soon I hope to be. It is a beautiful and sacred gift. I will always cherish it." She said, using an ancient formality. Toller smiled.

Her brows drew together. "You went back to the woods?" Then she gasped as another wave of agony washed through her.

Sookie returned to her daughter's side in a flash. Her eyes filled with tears as Kirsten's breath caught sharply and she coiled up around her pain.

Noting Kirsten's new talisman, Sookie glanced at Toller significantly.

Toller stroked Kirsten's forehead and contained his own rage.

"Yes. The portals have vanished and the enemy has been taken or slaughtered. We burnt the demons' carcasses."

Kirsten dug her nails into her palms and willed her pain to subside. When she had recovered she observed, "They were evil. Their auras were black and some deeper, disgusting tone,"

"Yes. They are evil because they are bound to an evil force and they reflect that magic. Someone released them and we must find out who sent them and to whom they are bound…"

Sookie growled, "I don't care if they're lurking in Hell. Find them all and kill them. We'll never be safe until every last one of our enemies is dead."

Toller's eyes flashed. "That is my only goal."

He kissed Kirsten's cheek lightly as the first robins chirped in the false dawn and whispered, "I would stay if I could."

Kirsten touched his cheek. "I know."

When Toller had left, Kirsten curled into a ball. A groan escaped her lips as pain wracked her again. Claudine returned and took Kirsten's hand. Kirsten squeezed with a force that would have broken Sookie's fingers.

Claudine looked at Sookie. "You need to rest now cousin. You're swaying on your feet and your aura is grey!"

Sookie stared at Claudine with haunted eyes. "How can I leave my child?"

Claudine regarded her levelly. "You _will_ leave because she is already very powerful. In her agony she could injure you badly. Please, Sookie …The best way to help Kirsten now is to rest and be ready for her when she needs you the most…when she needs to know that you love her without question…no matter what she has become."

Sookie had just bent to kiss Kirsten's cheek when Kirsten convulsed with pain, back arching and arms flailing. One hand struck Sookie's shoulder and sent her reeling into the wall.

Claudine looked at Sookie desperately, "Please! Let me take care of her. If you're injured how can you possibly help her?"

Sookie relented. Her shoulder throbbed from the impact. She would never have left her daughter's side for her own sake. Only of her unborn child's safety forced Sookie to retire and allow Claudine to take her place.

"You're right. I'll try to rest, but you call me if she's in danger."

After Sookie left the room, Claudine crawled into bed and cradled Kirsten against her.

Kirsten was drenched in sweat, as wave of pain assaulted every cell of her body.

"I don't want to die," she wailed.

Claudine rocked her as she shook uncontrollably.

"You won't baby. You know that a Daughter's Crossing Over can't happen like that. Never forget that you're part of us too."

*****************************

Three hours later, Niall Brigant looked down at his resting granddaughter as the early morning light played across her features. Claudine rose and bowed deeply gazing sadly at Kirsten.

"It is over my Lord. Kirsten has Crossed Over."

Niall placed his hand upon his granddaughter's shoulder.

"No my dear. It has just begun."

Sensing her great-great grandfather's presence Kirsten's eyes snapped open. They gazed at each other with great love. Niall's breath caught in his throat as he acknowledged the ancient soul before him. Kirsten was even lovelier, if that were possible. In his Faery sight, her skin seemed to glow and her aura crackled with the red-gold energy of her primary element, Fire.

Kirsten's fierce spirit was honed to a new edge and she was like a magnificent bird of prey—glorious and lethal—as she watched him with those piercingly blue eyes. She had crossed and become a mature Daughter of the Blood.

Kirsten opened her arms to her great- great-grandfather. Niall gathered her to him lightly kissing her forehead.

Kirsten sobbed.

"How's Del?"

"She's safe—resting. In time she will recover and be stronger than ever …"

"I was so afraid…"

Niall stroked Kirsten's hair.

"For a moment so was I. But that crisis is past and now there is another galloping towards us."

They shared a moment of silence. Claudine opened the window. A warm breeze ruffled their long hair.

A shadow fell across Kirsten's features. "When you came in and saw me…like I am now…for a minute…I thought," her voice dropped to a whisper hardly able to speak the words, "that you wouldn't love me anymore."

Niall gave her a little squeeze.

"Never think that, never! No transition can truly separate us. I will always love you. But now I must ask you to do something difficult. I must find out exactly what you saw—I need your memory of the attack. I'll understand many things more clearly, events that you experienced but cannot understand. I know that this is a difficult thing for you to do. I swear to you I will not probe deeper than the attack."

Kirsten did not hesitate.

"Of course, if it will help. Just give me a minute to center myself."

Kirsten sat on the edge of the bed, eyes closed, breathing deeply and slowly. She had never shared thoughts with Niall before, but they were linked through their blood which would make to it easier.

Niall pulled up a chair and sat opposite. She placed her hand upon his temple and he reached out to her repeating the gesture.

Kirsten's breathing became rapid. She groaned as her memory of the attack flowed into Niall's mind. Claudine inhaled sharply as Niall's eyes opened wide with surprise, anger, and apprehension. His mouth tightened. As the memory came to an end, he gently removed his hand from Kirsten's temple as her own hand dropped to her lap. She trembled as a tear slipped silently down her cheek. He gently tucked Kirsten back in bed.

A particular Fae lord deserved immediate extermination. He must speak with the watchers surrounding Ginnungagap. Escape was improbable, but any unusual activity should have been relayed to him immediately. If the situation were only as direct as the malice of one Fae lord, immediate war and the killing of Sewell Ulswater would avenge the Brigant line and restore some stability. But Ulswater and his forces could not have escaped their prison unless a Great One had released them. Even more alarming, Kirsten's memories had revealed something much deeper, a plot woven tightly and expertly by a master planner who had time, in a very large sense, to see the big picture.

He hugged both of his descendants.

"You have done very well my darlings. I'll see you tonight. When we must all make plans and discuss our…war chest."

"Rest now my brave ones, your presence will be required tonight."

Then he turned and vanished through an invisible door to another realm.

*************************

Kirsten awoke around noon. The cut on her arm was completely healed. She was famished. Claudine was asleep on the other bed. She could hear her mother bustling around in the kitchen and singing the old Travis Tritt song "T-R-O-U-B-L-E", in her incredibly tone deaf voice. She winced slightly. Mom could still shake her bootie with the best of them--for a mom—but when she did the karaoke thing she sounded like a cat in heat.

Since her own taste in music tended toward the latest incarnation of death metal, which her parents endured upon occasion, she could put up with a little off key vocal styling. Besides, Mom only sang when she was trying to distract herself or step up her mental game.

She slipped out of the room as quietly as she could, determined to eat and then take the world's longest shower. The loss of Adele's presence was a dull ache, but she took comfort in Prince Niall's assurance that Del was safe. In the meantime, she was saving her rage and concentrating it. When she did lash out at her enemies, they would definitely die.

Sookie rushed out of the kitchen and engulfed Kirsten in a long, hard hug. Kirsten hugged back, careful not to squeeze too tightly now that she could crack the ribs of a human or Supe.

Sookie stepped back and regarded her daughter with love and concern. What she saw was a much disheveled and remarkably beautiful young woman glowing with health. Whatever changes Kirsten had endured, she was still the daughter she had born and raised.

"You hungry?" Sookie left the details open, unsure what Kirsten might need. Although Daughters ate regular food, Sookie was unsure whether she would crave a True Blood.

Kirsten grinned and displayed the dimples that made her the darling of the mainstreaming movement, and held out her arm. "Well, I'm not snow white, my skin's not smoking, and I don't want a True Blood. But I _am_ starving."

Sookie gave her another hug.

"You go have a shower and I'll have brunch ready for you when you come down. Pick out something nice to wear for tonight. We'll have three kings on board tonight. Alcide Herveaux will be there too, to represent the Supe community. And of course, great-great grand-pa, Prince Niall will be there. A mischievous glint entered Sookie's eyes.

"By the way, what do you think of King Toller?"

Kirsten flushed and immediately blocked her.

"Hum…well I guess we'll have a chat about Toller later. I hear that there's a special guest. Dad's day guy is scrambling to provide special accommodations."

Sookie sniffed.

"Apparently our house isn't good enough… "

She'd saved the choice tidbit for last.

"And Jacques is stopping by this afternoon…"

Kirsten's face fell. She felt a squeezing hurt as she thought of him.

"Oh…Mom I don't know if I want to see Jacques…After everything that's happened...this seems stupid, but he broke up with me because it was 'the right thing to do'."

Sookie and Kirsten stared at each other leaving unsaid the bitter fact that Kirsten's change had, in fact, made the end of her first romance necessary.

Sookie sighed and kissed her daughter's cheek "Well, you know how Weres are—all rules and regulations, he does have to marry a bitch to have a pup, and you are _not_ a candidate for that position! Dad and I told you when y'all started dating, honey, that this day would come…doesn't make it easier—it was just always on the horizon."

Kirsten went upstairs while Sookie poured herself another cup of strong coffee and busied herself with brunch. When it was done she'd wake Claudine and they could all have a few minutes of peace together. Big trouble was brewing on the horizon. As Ben Franklin had said, they had better all hang together or they would all hang separately.

Finally alone in her own bathroom, Kirsten removed the leather thong and knife sheath from her neck and hung it carefully upon a hook. Shucking her clothes, she turned on the hot water, and stepped into the shower. She noticed the changes all right. Not white, but paler, and the shade and intensity of her aura was very different ---more red and crackly.

As the water poured over her, she thought about Toller and felt a lurch of excitement within her. He was amazing! The thought of his strong body made her heart beat more rapidly. Toller projected an energy and power so galvanizing that it made her tremble and become moist. Just the touch of his lips and the feel of his body when he held her made her nipples harden. She soaped herself and made a hungry sound as she imagined Toller's hands moving downward, skimming either side of her body until they reached her thighs--his strong, clever fingers touching her, finding her clit, and dipping into her warm,wet center. The heavy petting sessions she'd enjoyed with Jacques had been fun, but Toller's touch made her body throb with longing. She ached for him…scary…but he felt so right.

Her mother said that was the nature of bonds, the sharing. Her mother had told her how she had fought hard against the bond she had with her father.

"I could have chosen to die or to take blood from a vampire who would have ruined my life. I think that Dad saved my life that night though I didn't realize it at the time…maybe I saved him too. But because of it, we had to come to terms with what we felt for each other. And without its power, you girls wouldn't be here."

Kirsten's bond to Adele was different again. Her sister had been such a part of her. How comforting it had been when they were little to reach out in the darkness and feel her sister's presence. How great it was to be able to make all sorts of comments about annoying people without their having a clue. And now that bond between their minds was severed. And she and Adele were marooned on separate islands unable to communicate and support each other as they had all of their lives.

The wyrd-bond that linked her to Toller was a soul bond, again different.

That all of these magical bonds were concentrated here in this small corner of northern Louisiana was a wonder. Despite their differences, both her mother and father were highly skeptical of coincidence in a world where so many powerful beings sought pawns for their personal end games. Her father had always felt that a shared destiny bonded the nine worlds tied to the Aesir.

Eric had instructed his girls in the beliefs and rituals of his faith in which the concept of wyrd, or destiny, played a crucial role.

She recalled the cool autumn night, the time of the Hunting Moon, when her father had lifted them in his arms and had literally flown them deep into the wood to an ancient grove of live oak and ash trees. In the center of the groves was a little shrine holding an ancient stone figure of the goddess Hlin. She recalled the waves of power coming from the figure and the lines of earth energy –what many called magic—vibrating in the air inside of the grove.

Eric had put the girls down gently, knelt beside the goddess and touched his head to her feet. The girls had followed his example. Sparks had actually flown from Adele, whose core was so magical already.

Her father was so calm and peaceful there.

"It took me a long time to find this place. This is a holy place, a place of great power for us. That is why I placed the goddess, Hlin, here. I have carried her with me since I was a boy not much older than you two," he explained softly. "If…something bad ever happens…find a way to come here and our gods will protect you."

He made them walk the circle of tall, ancient trees explaining that the oak is sacred to Thor the god of thunder.

"But it is the Ash that is most sacred, min lilla älskar, because it is the World Tree of life and knowledge, and of time and space. Here in this grove there is a door to other worlds. All ash trees represent the Great Ash. On the highest branches sits an eagle, and at its roots a snake is bound gnawing at the tree. The eagle and the snake hate each other."

He grinned.

"A squirrel runs up and down the tree, telling each in turn what rude things the other is saying! Those are the naughty Fae—goblins, demons, and even some of the pretty ones like you…"

The girls giggled then hushed in the silence of the grove.

"Odin, the All Father, is part of the eagle and Loki; the trickster is part of the snake. The snake, Loki, will free himself just as Ragnarok, the battle between good and evil, begins. Then Loki will lead the forces of chaos."

They had hugged his legs with a frisson of terror.

"But won't the good gods win?"

Eric shrugged and stroked their hair, "If that is their wyrd—even the gods may not know."

Finishing her shower, Kirsten chose a pretty and elegant floral sheath dress and a pair of red sandals with low heels. As usual she left her hair unbound and wore minimal make-up. She stared in the mirror apprehensively before heading down to brunch.

"What do you think?" she asked her mother. Sookie smiled proudly.

"I think you look like the beautiful lady that you are."

The three women enjoyed a quiet meal together in the sunny breakfast nook. Claudine excused herself right afterward.

"I've gotta get ready for the big show tonight!" She said cheerily and she poofed.

Kirsten noticed her laptop in the front room and wanted to pull up the latest version of Twitter to reconnect with her friends. She laughed aloud as she thought about what she would say.

"How 'bout, 'Kirsten is recovering from a demon attack,' or, 'Kirsten is brushing her fangs….', or, 'Kirsten is wondering if she can levitate now'…"

She shook her head.

_Wow…so not human normal. I'll have to find a Vamp version of Twitter If Del was here she'd have a smart ass remark or two. _

Missing Del was one of the biggest aches she'd have to cope with.

Just then Jacques arrived. Kirsten opened the door as he put his hand up to knock. He stood for a moment taking her in—her beauty and her otherness. As a Were he recognized her Change and it rocked him. He'd come to apologize, to tell her he'd stand up to his dad. He wouldn't say those things now.

"Kirs, you look amazing… I…"

She stepped aside to let him in. They sat in the front room as the late afternoon sun streamed over them. Neither one spoke.

Jacques stared down at his big hands and then looked straight at her, his deep brown eyes brimming. He was remembering the good times they had had together, going to parties, playing hoops, laughing at a funny movie-- Kris in her jeans and tees. Kirs, who only dressed up when circumstances forced her to be formal. And now she could never be his.

In her nervousness, Kirsten touched his mind and detected resolution and sadness and a hint of the inborn aversion of a Were for a Vampire. That hurt.

"So, that's final." She mumbled.

"Did you just…" Jacques hated it when she used her gift on him.

"Yeah, sorry."

"Oh God…Kirs… I heard about…what happened…to heal you …did they…" His voice dropped. "What did they _do_ to you?"

Kirsten looked at him sharply. Her own eyes widened with the shock of the insult.

"_They_ didn't do anything to me. My people defended me. _They _paid with their own lives for mine. I'm sorry you if can't accept this Jacques, but _this is me_. It's who I was meant to become, and if you can't deal with that…then I guess there's nothing more to say."

Jacques looked at Kirsten sadly, opened his mouth to say something more, and then closed it.

Very slowly and deliberately, he raised her hand, kissed it gently, and left without saying another word.

************************

_So, this rumble's going to be a big one involving more than one world; there are nine in Norse mythology. and there are a lot of players. Stay tuned for the war council and the interrogation of the bad guys. Then, I hope Sook and Eric will have some time to kiss and make up in the Red Room ;-D_

**I labored long and hard on this chappy. Please give me the gift of your review. **

***hugs***


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Dark Storm Rising

_**A/N: Thanks for all of the PMs and reviews expressing your support for DSR and the new characters. **_

_How do you insult a Viking? In the text, I use the Norse term "__sansorðinn." _

_Vikings, like 14-year-old boys, almost always used sexual put-downs. The worst was implying that a man was __sansorðinn__ -- "used in the position of a female (__blauðr__) by another man," in other words "demonstrably sodomized." That could be punished by __fullrettirsorð__ "full penalty," meaning that the insulted man could kill the insulter with impunity. The authorities would look the other way. The insult didn't have to be that direct, as long as the meaning was clear. Calling a man a "mare," or a "woman," or worse, __argr__ (its polite meaning is "cowardly"; its sexual meaning is "emasculated, unmanned, womanish," could also call down the weight of __fullrettirsorð.__ In the __Lokasenna__ ("The Insolence of Loki"), the term __argr__ is bandied about openly.  
_

_**Warning-- the enemy is tortured in this chapter. It's what vampires do to their enemies. If it makes you queasy, turn back now!**__** This ain't kid stuff! **_

_My Betas and I have exchanged a novella's worth of correspondence over this chapter. It was emotionally challenging. I've rewritten it three times. I abhor torture. After much deliberation, we collectively decided that I should stay true to the characters' natures when it came to crime and punishment. _

_Among the Scandinavians of the Viking Age, honor was a kind of equilibrium which a man could not allow to be disturbed. It was intolerable if you and your family could be spoken of with scorn. Balance and good name were restored only with successful retaliation for insult or injury._

_Also, I should mention that there are thousands of practicing Heathens ( their term not mine) who worship the Norse gods, as well as worshipers of the Icelandic or Scandinavian Ásatrú (pronounced "OW suh true") __sect. I try to handle their beliefs with respect and as much accuracy as the story allows. A blόt (rhymes with "boat") is a sacrifice to the gods. It is an ancient ritual and is still used in modern Heathenry. A blόt sacrifice allows communion with the gods--traditionally with a blood sacrifice. It also allows believers to gather in celebration and friendship. If you have questions, please go ahead and PM me. There's a link on my profile to a YouTube video on Ásatrú. _

_This chapter was a ten thousand plus word beast; I decided to divide it into two chapters. So, I'll update very soon____ "__Mot tha worde min muthes yelikikan the, Leof min," means "May the words of my mouth be acceptable to thee, my lord."_

_**I'm blessed to have FDM & AmaZen, two of the brightest women in fanfic, as my betas. Thank you ladies--for letting me bounce ideas off of your brilliant brains, for your honest assessments, for pushing me to get things right, and for encouraging me when I'm ready to throw in throw towel in the wee hours of the morning. **_

_CH's characters are hers and hers alone. My characters and the concept of Daughters of the Blood are mine and mine alone._

*******************************************************

_**All Doorways**_

_**before entering**_

_**gaze into carefully;**_

_**one never knows**_

_**where on the benches**_

_**enemies are sitting.**_

(Norse Prose Edda-- Snorri Sturluson.)

****************************************************************

(The Night of the Attack)

Eric and Stan departed the Northman estate surrounded by heavily armed squadrons of Louisiana and Texas vamps. Boats awaited them twenty miles south of Shreveport on a dark tributary of the Red River which wound through rain bloated wetlands. With its submerged logs and hungry gators, this remote part of the marshland was a dangerous place for a human in a boat.

Any unfortunate fisherman who somehow slipped through the wards and drifted into that distant, murky part of the swamp would hardly notice the seemingly ramshackle building hidden behind an unruly growth of swamp alders and willows. Notorious throughout the supernatural community, Sheriff Northman's "holding pen" was well concealed. Although he preferred open battle, when the situation demanded his enemies' "interrogation," and "sentencing," Eric was ruthless. He would take his time, torture his enemies to the edge, and then throw them back in their holding cell.

If they didn't tell all they knew at once, they eventually would. They always did. With every interrogation, another piece of the prisoner's armor would be chipped away. Eric wanted revenge, yes, but first he needed information. Breaking the enemy's bodies would help obtain the information. But Eric wanted more; he wanted their spirits broken as well. He wanted to hear them begging for death.

The hands that had gently cradled his baby daughters and caressed his wife with infinite tenderness could also brutally extract information with any number of torture devices and techniques.

As Eric and Stan's boat approached, two vamps of Eric's retinue noiselessly pulled it ashore. Neither spoke of their pain; both planned to extract as much information from their enemies as they could as painfully as possible.

They passed through a thick steel door guarded by burly vamps, into a cold, dank chamber lit by industrial fluorescents.

Marcus approached, bowed to his sheriff and the king of Texas. Horrible bellows issued from a corridor to his left followed by a rhythmic cracking and the dull thud of metal sinking into flesh. All three vampires showed fang, grinned, and headed toward the sounds.

A fire demon hung by the wrists barely above a vat of liquid nitrogen. Its clawed hands were numb and its arms and massive shoulders had ceased to strain against the steel bands that suspended it. Every nerve in its body screamed against contact with the frigid liquid just a centimeter beneath its feet. Its entire body throbbed. Footsteps approached. Aching, eyeless sockets turned instinctively towards the scraping of a heavy door. The room was permeated with the scent of Vampire, leather, metal and the sharp, sulfurous stench of the demon's blood. Fear coiled like snakes in its gut as rough leather and lumps of cold steel swung gently against its throbbing flesh.

A cool, quiet male voice spoke. "Who sent you?"

All its life, the demon had been trained to ignore pain--to give the enemy nothing except death.

Steel clanked gently, as a deep voice growled "Allow me…"

Except for the Demon's ragged breath, the room was silent. The hair along the nape of the demon's neck turned to hackles. The whip whistled. He screamed as cold steel gouged out chucks of flesh. Then, there was nothing but the molten pain. A gasp tore at its throat as iron fingers ripped a chunk of flesh from his side. Red, wrinkled skin sloughed off of its legs.

"Now, who sent you?"

He owed the creature who sent him no allegiance. He had come for the sport of battle and to fuck the beautiful girl.

Its head was full of daggers. It opened it mouth to speak the name, but could only growl and mutter gibberish,

"It's warded." The cool voice was passionless.

"And stupid," the gruff voice concluded," break the ward."

Like molten lead, the liquid nitrogen consumed the demons legs leaving shriveled stumps. Its brain erupted with agony as the ward shattered.

"The ice king sent us." It moaned.

Rough, powerful hands tore at its hanging flesh.

"Why did he send you?"

"He gave us the Fae girl to fuck and kill."

The gruff one growled.

The cool one said, "Not quite yet, Stan."

"Did the Vampires come with you?"

The demon groaned. Sharp pain rocked its brain as a brutal slap brought it back from semi consciousness. It lapped up its own blood thirstily.

"Don't…know…They…came from…somewhere else…not demon lands…not…with clan."

"How did you get here? Look fella, your clan will kill you now…you're a traitor. Tell us and you can rest…"

"Fae paths…doors," the demon whispered.

The cool voice asked, "Would you like to fuck the pretty Fae girl after you rest?"

The demon's bruised and swollen face cracked in an idiotic grin. "Fuck. Yes. Many times."

A hiss followed the snick of fang. The demon shrieked again and again as his balls and cock were wrenched from his body to the roars of a furious vampire. The vampire lifted the demon like a ragdoll, and, and roughly splashed a ladle full of liquid nitrogen onto the bloody pulp between its legs, instantly cauterizing the wound. Its head hit the cold, damp wall with a sickening crack, bringing waves of nausea; daggers of searing pain stung every nerve. As it slipped into oblivion, its only desire was death.

Marcus prodded the demon with his foot. "You won't get any more out of this one."

Stan scowled at the lump in the corner,

Eric smiled contentedly. "We don't need to. It's enough to know that it will suffer a century for every second of Adele's agony."

Marcus nodded. "How about the other three?"

Stan's eyes blazed, "I'll see to those fellas…" he hissed. Eric moved on to the next captive.

*******************************

Brynjolfur Heimdall cursed under his breath. His heavily muscled shoulders bulged as he strained against the bolts and sliver plated shackles that clamped him face down and spread eagled on the breaking wheel. The big German had whipped him cruelly, laughing when Brynjolfur bellowed like a bull at the slaughterhouse.

The scourge's rough leather straps had pounded across his legs, buttocks, and ribs biting painfully into his skin and searing every nerve into burning arcs of raw, throbbing agony. He tried to thrash about, but the shackles held him fast. His shame was boundless.

The German struck again and again, jerking back and pulling hard. His body grew rigid anticipating the next blow. He screamed as leather straps and jagged metal barbs thrashed his entire back, ripping open veins and shredding muscle until his body boiled with the unrelenting heat of a blowtorch. Whole pieces of flesh were torn from every contour of his body. Even his bowels had spilled out, pooling with his blood on the filthy and darkly stained cement floor. A cockroach scuttled beneath him, pausing to nibble a chunk of gore that had dropped to the floor beneath him.

Then, a second vampire entered the room, stopping just out of sight.

Red rage and humiliation twisted his guts. Brynjolfur understood torture, had used it himself to great effect upon many victims over the centuries. But he had never endured the indignity of torture. His thoughts spun. He was close to losing consciousness. He couldn't use his gift in this heavily warded prison that stank of demon blood, fear, and death.

Eric regarded the bearded, bloody creature whose hands bore the white lines of ancient battle scars. This one had been within reach of Kirsten when Eric had sliced his hamstrings and skewered him to the ground. Now the rogue vampire was pinned to the wheel. With luck, the scourging would motivate him to talk.

He pushed the wheel with his foot, turning it like a gruesome merry go round. His tone was deceptively mild, almost casual. "Ah, my favorite toy."

As if trying to decide just where to place the garnish on a juicy roast, he played at viewing his captive from every angle.

"What have we here?" he inquired, roughly grasping the enemy's forearm. "A fellow Víkingr I see."

The rogue's arm was rune-marked signifying an ancient _béot, _a sacred, unbreakable vow, binding the warrior to Loki, the lord of chaos who was chained until Ragnarok. The runes had been recently re-inked, proof – if any was needed - that the pledge still bound him.

Eric grabbed the rogue's beard, jerking his head up uncomfortably

"**Who** ordered the attack on my daughters?" Eric demanded fiercely.

"Suck my cock, you fucking sansorðinn," the captive rogue snarled in return.

Eric smiled wickedly, and then smashed the vampire's testicles to a bloody pulp.

"I'll kill you for that," screamed the rogue, "I'll fuck your daughters _and_ your wife while you watch. Dra til helvete!"

"You think so?" Eric's voice was soft again. "The scourging was just the beginning… First, I'm going to break every bone in your undead body." Another smash and a knee became a bloody pudding laced with shattered bone.

"You will endure hours of agony and wish you could die like a human, but when your bones are healing, I'll start over again with a silver hammer." The bar landed again with a sickening crunch and the prisoner shrieked through broken teeth.

"You will neither feed nor rest for days. But if you tell me what I want to know, I may eventually have pity and stake you."

The other vamp spat in his face.

Eric gripped the rogue's throat mercilessly. "Before I send you to Hel, you _will_ tell me who sent you and what you were promised. You will tell me your _exact orders_, all that you know of your master's plans and what he stands to gain from my daughters." Without another glance at the groaning rogue, he returned to Marcus.

"I want information before tomorrow night's conference. Make very sure of that. The bitch must be preserved. Use only methods that do not destroy her. If that bastard on the wheel won't talk, open him up again. Next time, two of you scourge him at the same time.

As he left the room, he addressed the rogue in Old Norse with seeming nonchalance, "That's the beauty of torturing vampires, Víkingr; we can reacquaint you with our toys again and again until you tell us everything we want to know. Marcus, I'm going to call on our female celebrity now. I hope she enjoys our conversation."

Pam silently slipped next to Eric as he pushed on the door of the female assassin's holding cell. Despite Pam's silence Eric sensed her excitement. The Wraith was a notorious, celebrated figure and Eric had captured her. His face was a frightening mask of tightly controlled rage as he assessed the lean, hatchet faced female stretched naked upon a steel frame and secured with silver cables; it was an updated, vampire secure, version of the medieval rack. Bothvild was an ancient Saxon assassin. She killed efficiently, without compunction, and freely admitted that she thoroughly enjoyed her profession.

Bothvild prayed fervently to the Bound One.

_Mot tha worde min muthes yelikikan the, Leof min! I hail the husband of Sigyn, father of Hella, father of Fenrir. He has nourished me with the blood of his chosen sacrifices, and brought me great comfort. Shapeshifter, Skytreader, Flame-haired Charmer. I offer praises to the Cunning One who is a friend of my House. Let me not betray thee; let me welcome pain as a lover._

Her employer was a puppet, manipulated for the sake of a much greater cause. But she must not give him up unless the Master willed it. She would endure what came without revealing the Great One she served

Had it been up to her, she thought angrily, the little bitch's throat would have been slit. But her Fae employer had wanted to prolong the agony and humiliation of the Brigant female, and so wanted that business left to the blundering, stupid demons. The damned root that tripped her had grasped her ankle like an unseen hand. And here she was.

In all the centuries of her long existence, she had never before been caught. Now, the humiliation of captivity galled her more than the pain she would endure.

The skin on her wrist and ankles throbbed and burned, chafed raw where they were bound to movable bars on the steel frame.

The door scraped open. She scented a male and female vamp.

The female was a beautiful blond who smiled coyly.

"I'm so terribly excited to meet a real celebrity!" She gushed, holding up a Mason jar. "I can't wait to show my kinswomen and friends the mementos of our visit."

Leaning closer, Pam dropped the friendly pretense. "I assure you that your situation is quite hopeless. Now, who sent you and why?"

Bothvild spat on her.

Pam pouted. "Well, that wasn't nice. Perhaps this will improve your manners." Dabbing the spittle off her Chanel jacket with disgust, Pam turned the ratchet handle of the rack.

The ancient assassin gasped as the rollers turned. Pain pounded through her body as the ligaments in her arms and legs strained away from their joints. Still, she muttered defiantly.

"Sorry?" Pam smiled sweetly. The rollers rumbled again and The Wraith's body became a web of fiery anguish as immortal tissues ripped from their foundations. "I didn't get that."

Bothvild showed fang. "You'll….get…nothing…from…me!"

Pam sighed dramatically and turned to Eric, who wordlessly handed her a knife.

"Well then, it's time for me to take my first memento."

With lightning speed she sliced off The Wraith's right thumb and index finger. She popped the finger into the jar.

"See? One for me and one for you. And since you won't eat your words…"

She wagged the thumb in the wraith's Face, "You can eat this instead."

The wraith uttered a hooting, hysterical laugh. "Fuck you!"

Pam's fangs were inches from her neck. Her eyes blazed with fury as she remembered the blood dripping between Del's legs where she had been violated and terribly torn.

"You poisoned my innocent kinswoman and left her to be raped by demons!"

Iron hands forced her jaws open and Pam pressed the gory thumb into the Wraith's mouth while Eric clamped her jaws shut.

She leaned heavily on the Wraith's chest until a loud crack announced a broken rib.

"Chew with your mouth closed bitch, and be sure to swallow!"

Eric worked The Wraith's jaw and held her mouth shut. She refused to swallow so he nodded for Pam to turn the handle. He had no intention of showing the slightest mercy. This evil creature had cut and poisoned his beautiful, innocent Adele and had left her for the demons. She would endure endless torture in this world and the next.

Against her will, Bothvild swallowed, loathing the cold, rubbery texture, gravel-like crunch of her masticated thumb bones, and the sickly sweet taste of her own blood. She glared at Eric with impotent fury, her thin lips drawn back in a silent snarl.

Eric's voice held an undertone of icy contempt. He decided to play a hunch. "Which Fae lord hired you to attack and poison my daughter? Who is the 'ice king'? Who is the overlord? "

Bothvild sneered.

"You'll get nothing from me! You'll find out when the time comes and not before."

Eric gave the handle another crank. The Wraith's eyes popped, her fanged mouth strained in a grinning rictus of hatred and pain.

A tsunami of pain roared through her entire being. Her mind exploded into a thousand writhing sparks, and her shrieks grew louder as the thick concrete walls echoed with loud popping noises made by her snapping cartilage.

Eric slapped her face brutally. "Who ordered the attack?"

Bothvild gasped, "You will feel my pain a hundred fold when my Master comes into his own."

She stiffened, suddenly aware that she had said too much. Eric smiled grimly and twisted again. Bothvild howled as her shoulders joints separated and her arms lay next to her like the severed limbs of a puppet.

Eric smiled kindly. "Don't worry. They'll heal before round two. So a coup…and a master who commands your allegiance--a creature of the North. Your master must be old…what Vampire king would seek the destruction of a fertile Daughter…or is it a Fae lord? Perhaps you're fucking a demon king who has a grudge against the Brigant Fae?"

Raw hatred blazed in her eyes. She gasped, "Look into my eyes and see your death! My Master will avenge me! Fool! You can't kill me! Long ago a Sybil foretold that a fledgling bird would lead me to the otherworld. There I will be great in my Master's eyes!"

Eric turned the handle once more and was rewarded with another shriek and the loud "CRACK" of a snapping femur.

"If you tell me your Master's name…I may guide you to this fledgling."

The Wraith did not respond.

Pam locked eyes with Eric. "Perhaps it's time for me to use my other toy."

Eric's eyes hardened, but his voice remained calm, almost nonchalant. "Why Pam, I believe you are correct."

He leaned against the rack, casually twisting the handle. "Now you wretched whore, I don't like repeating myself. This is the last time I will ask nicely. Which Fae lord hired you to attack and poison my daughter? Who is the' ice king?' Who is this overlord who is your true master? "

Bothvild whimpered as every muscle in her body screamed for release from the horrific fire. She hated the Víkingr even more.

"The girl is a mongrel abomination. She deserves death." She leered through cracked lips. "She's as good as dead now."

Pam growled. Eric's hand was a blur. Blood spurted from the vamp's mouth. He spoke mildly and turned the rack a fraction more.

"Do not speak ill of your betters. Answer my questions--nothing more and nothing _less._ What master holds your pledge and why did he order the attack?_"_

She sneered,"…beyond your comprehension!"

Eric nodded at Pam who drove her fist into the Wraith's knee cap. Red-hot needles of pain lanced through every nerve in her body. This time her unearthly shrieks passed through the steel door and reverberated down the corridor.

"You _will_ fully answer my master's questions. Perhaps I can help you understand that. I brought you a special….gift."

Pam reached into her black Prada carry-all and removed a smallish, roughly pear-shaped black velvet sack. She swung it in front of The Wraith's eyes.

"Would you like to see?"

Opening the sack, Pam withdrew a graceful, iron, pear-shaped pendant made in four sections and controlled by a screw. The sections could separate, opening wide like an umbrella, or the petals of some exotic flower. Each section displayed a detailed etching of a torn blossom. The Wraith tensed and hissed. She knew this instrument well, having once restrained a vampire king's unfaithful human lover while he "fucked" her with the Pear of Anguish. She had listened to the woman's shrieks with clinical indifference.

Pam stroked the cold device across The Wraith's cheek, showing fang.

"This particular version was a favorite of China's secret police during the Qing dynasty." Pam continued, admiring the delicate engravings. "The Chinese believe the pear or 'Li' as they call it, symbolizes immortality. 'Li' also means 'separation.' I would _love _to _separate_ you from your _immortality_. For the moment however, we will enjoy other forms of separation."

Pam held the tip of the screw where Bothvild could see it. "See this writing? It's the Hànzì characters for 'peach blossom.' 'Táohuāyuán,' the Mandarin word for 'vagina,' means 'the source of peach blossom.'"

Bothvild shuddered.

"We know Adele Northman as 'The Rose.' _I _chose this punishment for its poetic justice. The blood of my kinswoman's innocence is on your hands. Her agony, her rape, and her rending are upon your head. That you could deliver another female to that fate makes this punishment all the more just."

She rammed the device into the Wraith's center. It was colder than ice, so cold that it burned even her cool sheath.

"Oh, I almost forgot to mention that my Pear is warded to stay well below freezing."

Pam began twisting the screw. The Wraith tried to squirm, but succeeded only in wringing more pain from her torn muscles and dislocated joints. Bloody tears began to form in her eyes. Eric's face remained impassive, his voice devoid of emotion.

"Tell us your master's name."

"Never!"

Pam turned the screw and the frigid iron "petals" unfolded further, tearing the Wraith's delicate female tissues.

Eric insisted, "Tell us your master's name and I swear by the Lord Odin that I will lead you to this fledgling. I make this oath upon my honor."

The Wraith grunted and clenched her teeth. The screw squeaked through another turn. Pain hammered into the Wraith's brain. Her long existence had spiraled down to just two states: pain and no pain; and her mind began to unravel.

Only one thought was left intact: the Víkingr had sworn a soul binding oath to lead her to the fledgling guide to her Master. Another turn. Pain raged like wildfire through torn flesh and shattered bone until the Wraith had screamed herself hoarse.

Eric was calm, and implacable. "What is your master's name? The interrogation will stop when you tell us what we want to know. Otherwise it will continue day and night, without ceasing."

The Wraith's muscles quivered, her torn bone and sinews pounding and throbbing as they tried to knit back together.

Finally she shuddered and whispered, "The Fae lord Ulswater is my master…"

Eric's eyes blazed, "Ah, but he is _not_ beyond my comprehension. If he is your master, he is free. Ginnungagap is impassable and isolated. Who released him?"

The Wraith said nothing. Pam turned the screw again and the healing tissues ruptured. Shockwaves of agony rocked the female's battered body.

Pam purred soothingly, "Tell us and the pain will end. Your body will heal. The fledgling awaits you."

The Wraith pried her eyes open. "Soon?"

Eric's voice was warm and smooth as melted caramel. "Very soon. Tell us, and the fledgling will guide you to the reward your master has provided."

Bothvild's shattered mind strained toward that comforting assurance. "My master is…Loki …he will crush you all…the end is near."

Her cracked lips drew back into leer as she registered the shock in her tormentors' eyes. Then, an iron fist slammed into her temple and she saw and heard no more.

Before he departed Eric turned to Pam.

"You have done well, my child. Keep this information to yourself for now." "

**********************************

Eric met Stan and Marcus in the shower area of the "Staff Quarters." Stan hummed happily as the dark red demon blood swirled down the drain.

"Well, that went better than I hoped." Stan regarded Eric sharply. "Have you ever heard in lore or fact, of any creature escaping Ginnungagap?"

"Never. Ulswater had to have been released by a god or demigod, undoubtedly for a purpose. If the Jottun is still bound, another deity who hasd no love for the Aesir freed Ulswater. Ulswater is the mortal enemy of the Brigants, and my enemy as well. He tried to kill my wife when she carried the girls."

Eric's eyes blazed as he recalled how fierce Sookie had been on the night of that battle in the Kisatchie Hills Wilderness. That night, she had channeled power for the first time.

Stan's brows drew together. "If he has escaped, then a god-like being who's an enemy of the Brigants released him. What enemy of the Brigants is strong enough to break through Ginnungagap's wards? And why would he help Ulswater?"

Eric's lips compressed, his thoughts racing as he examined the information his enemies had given up, or inadvertently revealed. Brynjolfur had recently reaffirmed his vow and was visibly displaying the Jottun's runes. The female had said that Loki was her true master and that "the end is near." He felt certain that "the ice king" was also a supporter of the Jottun.

" 'The friend of my enemy is my enemy.' Perhaps the Brigants are not the ultimate target," he said cryptically.

Eric would speak with Toller and Prince Niall. He'd also consult Bill Compton's now vast data base, to find out more about the Víkingr and his "ice king."

After clasping Stan's shoulder and nodding to Marcus, Eric lifted off into the night. In the course of an evening, the heart of his world had been shattered. Kirsten would rise above her emotions and her body would heal. Her skill as a warrior would be greatly enhanced by her new powers. She already bore the tri-spiral of the goddess Freya. Her initiation as a full priestess was imminent. When she fought The Wraith, she would fight under the aegis of the Aesir. He suspected that the blόt would be her first ritual as a full priestess. Her initiation would be arduous, but Eric was confident that Kirsten would prevail. Her wyrd had led her to this. In fulfilling her duty to her gods, she would avenge her sister's rape.

But Adele, sweet, gentle Adele. A thousand years of experience within the supernatural world told Eric that Del's fate hung in the balance. Her life and health would be affected by the choices that she made as her body healed. He had given her up knowing that it might be years before Adele could return to Midgard, _if _she chose to return. The attack would change her. Yet, she was a child of light, imbued with an unearthly serenity and beauty of spirit. Surely the gods would not create such a being only to destroy it. She had to have a greater purpose. Surely her wyrd was yet to be fulfilled.

As he sped through the darkness, Eric longed to return home to Sookie and Kirsten. He wanted to hold and comfort them. But his honored guest, the Ancient Pythoness, had asked to see him before they rested. He would have to spend the night at the Valhalla along with Stan and his retinue.

As the waning moon set, he landed softly on the Valhalla's roof. Guards from his retinue bowed and opened the door to his penthouse suite. He showered and changed quickly and went to meet the Ancient Pythoness. Her unusual appearance at this crucial time was no coincidence. Eric began to see a huge and ominous revelation taking shape.

***************************************************

_*pats readers' hands* _

_That was a harrowing chapter! Everyone OK? _

_More big revelations ahead and, finally, it's time for some ESN :-) _

_Oh, if you go to my FB (Maire Durkan) you can check out my photo album of people who look like DSR's characters (my avi this week is the woman who is the image of Kirsten). _

_Any suggestions for Niall? Eric? (Other than Alex) Sookie? (Other than Anna) or any of the other characters in DSR... Marcus? Thalia? And don't forget the baddies and questionables, like Felipe. Send me a link :-)_

_**This chapter was torture in every sense of the word. I worked hard to get it right. Please review and let me know what you think.**_

_***hugs***_

_I probably won't be submitting this time round, but be sure to check out the latest Sookieverse competition. The authors rock!_

www dot fan fiction .net/community/Eric_and_His_Great_Pumpkin/74431/


	10. Chapter 10

Dark Storm Rising

Chapter 10

**A/N: **_**A couple of chapters back, I had Del mention their cousin Zeline Paquette, a literal wildcat with the Brigant Fae ability to channel electricity through a unique medium. She's grown up with the Northmans and has chosen to follow Ásatrú (the religion true to the Aesir). Zeline is the daughter of Jason and his ex-girlfriend, a wildcat Cajun shifter named Marie Paquette. The Northmans took Zeline under their wing and she is closer to the Northmans than she is to her dad, Jason, who is off camping with a new girlfriend and is unreachable. In Vodou (also spelled Voodoo) Lwas are entities much like saints. A mambo is a Vodou priestess.**_

_**Norse Notes: Northern cosmology is unique in presenting "destiny of the gods," or Ragnarok--a final battle in which the Gods and their followers will fight against the forces of entropy and destructive chaos led by Loki (whose element is fire) and Surt, the lord of Muspelheim (the primordial world of raging fire).**_

_**Building up the army of Asgard (the home of the Aesir gods) in preparation for Ragnarok is the driving motivation for Odin. Way back in Understanding when the goddesses are setting the Northman's wyrd in motion--Freya mentions that Odin is behind the girls' conception. He's had a plan for them for ages, literally! **_

_**A gythja is a priestess of the Aesir. Kirsten earns the right of **__**fullrettirsorð ", full penalty, meaning that she can kill her sister's attacker with impunity. **_

**Thanks AmaZen for editing this monster chapter solo while FDM reads thirty plus fics for the Eric & His Great Pumpkin competition. Please check out the competition entries!**

**As always, CH's characters are hers and hers alone. My characters and the concept of Daughters of the Blood are mine and mine alone.**

_****************************************************_

_**Everyone has their obsession  
Consuming thoughts, consuming time  
They hold high their prized possession  
That defines the meaning of their lives**_

_**You are mine  
You are mine  
You are mine, all mine  
You are mine**_

_**There are objects of affection  
That can mesmerize the soul  
There is always one addiction  
That just cannot be controlled**_

_**You are mine  
You are mine  
You are mine, all mine  
You are mine**_

Mute Math "You Are Mine"

_******************************************************_

When it came to his special guest, Eric insisted that he be subjected to the same scrutiny as any other individual seeking access to the heavily guarded suites beyond the armed guards, video surveillance, and thumb print sensors. A dark elf, Fae, or some even more powerful being could easily assume his outward form, but fingerprints and scent would be difficult to replicate. As he walked down the corridor leading to the Royal Suite, waves of power washed over him. After a retinal scan, the guards bowed him into the suite. Two powerful women awaited him. The Ancient Pythoness was seated on a throne-like chair. Her wild, white hair, floated in a gossamer nimbus about her head as her sightless eyes stared directly at him. Next to her stood a tall, austere woman with proud, patrician features and eyes like green ice. Her long, unbound hair was the color of ripened wheat. She wore a blue, traditional Viking overgarment over a white gown. He checked a wave of apprehension. The presence of Finna Hrútsdóttir, High Gythja of the Aesir and eldest of the ancient Nordic priestesses, confirmed the enormity of the threat against them.

Eric knelt as the Ancient Pythoness and the Norse Gythja extended their hands in blessing. Finna sat next to the Ancient Pythoness and indicated that Eric should sit on the chair that faced them. The Ancient Pythoness's harshly accented voice broke the silence.

"The High Gythja and I have been summoned here through the powerful sendings of a deity. Our visions were alarmingly similar. We saw the entity that supports the axis of the nine worlds and the very fabric of existence shaken to its roots."

Finna nodded solemnly. "Yes the World-Tree is threatened. The prophesies are being realized. In the end times the dead will openly walk the earth; chaos, oath breaking, and violence will reign in the world of men. I believe that the Great Revelation fulfills the first part of the prophesy. Certainly despite all of its technological advances, Midgard is more chaotic and dishonorable today than at any former time in my existence. I was brought here by my lord Thor--the guardian of Midgard who roots our world firmly in the multi-verse. We are upon the brink. The end approaches unless our choices are true and our resolve is unbreakable."

"Thor has shown me that Kirsten must come into her own as a priestess now. She must be hallowed and strengthened, even as her sister must be hallowed and strengthened in another realm. To become great champions in the battles to come, they must withstand their ordeals and be willing to change for the sake of the greater good. This is their wyrd.

The dark hollows of The Ancient Pythoness's eyes fixed upon Eric.

"We go to battle in a dying world. The rogue states in the Middle East, Asia, and Africa have put the world on the brink of a nuclear disaster. Genocide and territorial battles abound. The winds have shifted causing climate change, famine, floods, and mass extinctions. No being of this realm will escape the consequences of these times. I fear that this attack reveals similar schisms within the supernatural community. Sides have been drawn and armies amassed. We have been heedless. Tomorrow night, when the others reveal what they know, we will learn the extent of this disaster. Now, my child, tell us of your sending and of what you have learned from the captured enemies."

Eric explained, "Eighteen years ago, I was taken through Sedir magic to the lowest world. There I saw the Bound One. He told me to "choose well," when the time came. This week my wife and I experienced another Sedir vision. We saw Ragnarok. We saw our daughter Adele standing between the armies of Odin and the Aesir and the armies of Surt and Loki." His eyes darkened. "We saw her death." Eric explained what the captured enemy had revealed and of his daughter's determination to offer up her enemy in battle during the blόt.

Finna's cool voice broke the silence.

"You saw a vision of what _might_ be. Orlog, our individual strand of wyrd, is affected by the choices we make. Her fate may be otherwise. What _is_ clear that the most fanatical of Loki's followers have rededicated themselves to his cause. If Ulswater has been set free, as you suppose, the Aesir have _at least_ one traitor in their midst. For ages Loki has lain bound and suffering. As his time nears, his powers grow. Loki may lie upon a slab, in a bleak cavern, but his mind and voice, his powers of manifestation are NOT bound. Therefore _He _is not bound. He is Utgard, an outland intruder of giant stock. He is chaos. He is the true enemy. Our visions and what we know of him prove that his power increases. I fear that his forces are vast. He is bound through the magic of the Aesir. You are sworn to the Aesir. Your blood bond to your wife is more powerful than any in the history of the Vampire race. Have you ever wondered why?"

Before Eric could respond, the Ancient Pythoness' voice grated harshly,

"After exchanging our visions, the Gythja and I conjecture that the magic of your bonds to the Aesir has remained in you more strongly than in others. Your fate has always been tied to the Aesir. Down the ages, across the far-flung web of wyrd, the All-Father, who sacrificed his eye for the sake of knowledge and hung for nine days upon the World-Tree pierced by his own sword, perceived his future need and fixed the bonding magic of a pledged follower more firmly within you. This powerful bond magic lay dormant until it was awakened in your bond with your wife. It flowed from you into her, and from her into your daughters. By the instruction of the Lord Odin, the Lady Freya hallowed and fixed your seed within her, increasing the magic of the bond. Your bond magic flows from the All-Father. It is the same magic that binds Loki fast. To rise again, he must destroy all magic that is connected to his binding. Your family contains the last of that magic. If the bonds are released through death or magical extraction--the last links that hold Loki will be destroyed. He will arise. Heimdall will bow his horn and call the Aesir to Ragnarok, the last battle."

Eric sat in stunned silence. Fear for the safety of his daughters, wife, and unborn child battered him. His mind raced as he analyzed what they knew and what they suspected. Would Adele be safe in Niall's sanctuary? Kirsten was changing and he couldn't be at her side. Sookie, his beloved wife, was exhausted, frightened, and angry and he could not hold her and speak with her. The gods had placed his family on the knife's edge of destruction. There must be a reason - surely the All-Father had a plan. He clenched his fist and spoke with quiet firmness.

"In war there is no prize for the runner-up. We need to know for certain who is friend and who is foe, and how my family fits into the Aesir's plans."

Finna nodded. "These are our goals as well. Your daughter Kirsten must come to us tomorrow after the meeting. Your daughter has earned the right of fullrettirsorð. We will hold the blόt in your sacred grove while the moon is dark in three days. She must remain with us until then. We will summon you when it is time for her ordeal. The moon power will be strong for dark angers and passions. The dark moon is the time for dealing with attackers and bringing justice to bear."

The Ancient Pythoness leaned forward. "Is there more that you would ask us, or tell us?"

Eric hesitated. "My wife is two months pregnant."

The Ancient Pythoness folded her hands and seemed lost in contemplation. Finna smiled thoughtfully and regarded him kindly.

"You have an extraordinary family with a mighty wyrd. When I meet your wife, I will learn more. Do not worry overmuch. The new life the gods have granted you is not without a purpose."

The Ancient Pythoness's handmaids returned to the room, signaling the end of the interview.

As Eric undressed and prepared to rest, he reached out to Sookie from the core of his being. His body ached for her. His longing for Sookie went beyond lust and love. They were one in spirit. Like deep roots intertwining, their magical bond had grown and evolved into the core of their beings. Without it, their lives would be barren. He wanted to feel her all around him, to inhale the rich, sweet fragrance of her fertile body, to be wrapped in the familiar comfort of her arms. He sensed her exhaustion, fear and anger. But these things were nothing and her love triumphed over them. Before sleep took him, he whispered her name and groaned as her response flooded his mind.

_Need you. Want you. Love you._

_********************************************_

_(Later that afternoon)_

Niall Brigant popped into Zeline Paquette's living room as the red sun sank beneath a pool of salmon and red clouds.

Niall had loved this great-great granddaughter from his very first visit, back in Marie Paquette's old bungalow south of Lake Charles. From the beginning, Zeline had been formidably intelligent and courageous, showing a rare gift for making correct decisions instantly.

At puberty, she had proven to be a true Sky Brigant, able to channel lightening and particularly adept at channeling it through a material object. Although she could channel with any object, her favorite tool was a bullwhip. Her Fae boyfriend, Charles, had helped her learn to channel through the whip until she could direct the power with lethal accuracy.

Embracing his great-great granddaughter, Niall asked, "Where is your father?"

Zeline shrugged. "Off camping with his new woman, somewhere in the Kisatchie Hills Wilderness_." _Jason Stackhouse could be a pain sometimes and Zeline was glad to have him out of her fur for awhile.

Niall's eyes flashed angrily. "And your mother?"

"She and her boyfriend went to New Orleans to their Hounfo, their Vodou house, to help their Mambo with an initiation. They're calling down a Lwa for wisdom and blessings. Anyway, I'm staying with dad now --just till LSU's fall semester starts. Maman's boyfriend and I don't get along."

The corner of Niall's mouth twisted with exasperation. "They are both useless! You mother put her man before you and Jason left you alone again without any thought for your protection! Will they never learn?"

Zeline's parents loved her, but in Niall's estimation they were both dead losses. It hadn't taken much encouragement to get Sookie and Eric involved as parent surrogates, with Del and Kirsten becoming the sisters Zeline didn't have. It was the Northmans and the Brigants who gave her what stability she had.

She looked into the Prince's troubled green eyes. "You worry too much grand-grand père. I can take pretty good care of myself. I have you and Aunt Sookie and Uncle Eric. Charles is always here for me when I need him, and mon oncle's vamps shadow me at night."

A wave of apprehension swept through her as she took in Niall's uneasy expression.

"Has something happened?"

Niall embraced her and explained all he knew of the attack on Del and Kirs. Zeline wept tears of sorrow and fury as he spoke.

"Our family has been attacked. Tell me we're going to make them pay," she growled angrily as she gathered her jacket, whip and motorcycle helmet.

"That is the plan," said Niall, cupping her cheek in his hand. "I have to go now. Your aunt, uncle and I will expect you at the Valhalla. Your uncle sends an escort to protect you. There is a box waiting for you at the VIP entrance with a change of clothing, courtesy of Claudine." Niall smiled slightly. "I've sent Claude to Alfheim. Claudine and Charles will be with me." He kissed her forehead and disappeared with a soft "pop."

Zeline secured the coiled bullwhip in her saddlebag, admiring the sleek lines and shining chrome of Charles' eighteenth birthday present. Then she tore off on the top-of-the-line Ducati 3000 motorcycle, aware that she was being shadowed by at least four Vamps.

At the VIP entrance to The Valhalla, she dismounted. Removing her helmet, Zeline shook out her very long, thick, chestnut hair and gave her bike to the human parking valet. She smiled when Pierre, a big Cajun vamp who had recently moved here from southern Louisiana wolf whistled.

"Bonjour beau…how's it hanging?"

Pierre leaned forward inhaling deeply. Zeline's tangy, slightly sweet scent was unmistakable.

"Mmmmm. It's not hanging at all when you're around cher. When are you gonna drop the fairy? Dancez avec moi! I'll teach you some new steps. Two Cajuns, we make beautiful music together! "

Zeline grinned. Her emerald eyes flashed with amusement. "I know you could beau. But, les vampires are sooo controlling and mon Fée takes good care of me. Besides, he can play in the woods with me when I change." Her expression darkened and her eyes flashed. "But now I need to see ma tante et ma cousine and take care of business."

She slung her leather jacket over her shoulder and headed through the door.

Pierre hungrily watched her bottom twitch as she walked away. "Someday I'm going to peel off those tight pants and get to know what's underneath."

His companion shook his head ruefully. "If you want to keep your nuts, you best mind your manners. Zeline's as good as royalty here. The Sheriff is very protective of his niece, shifter or no…especially now. She's of the inangard, the Sheriff's clan, and a war has started. She gets the same protection as Kirsten."

In a lavish executive suite, Zeline swept her hair into a dramatic, asymmetrical chignon accented with crystal hair pins, then slipped into a black silk sheath dress. She paused, half hidden behind one of the ash pillars at the entrance to The Valhalla's conference room. Her expression stilled and grew serious. Although she rarely picked up thoughts, she was very good at sensing emotions even among other supes. She remained absolutely motionless for a moment taking in the tableau and assessing the players. Nobility, VIPs and VIVs were everywhere. Her boyfriend Charles and her cousin Claudine stood beside her great-great grandfather who was deep in conversation with Alcide Herveaux. Claudine was dressed to kill in a 3-inch black stilettos and a black silk dress with a deep V neckline and empire waist, which focused attention upon her magnificent breasts. One of the Lafazia family's sons, probably representing his father and mother, was speaking excitedly to the glacially silent King Stan.

Oncle Eric's arms encircled Tante Sookie's waist protectively. Both looked grim, although Tante Sookie was as beautiful as ever as she leaned into his embrace. She recognized two of the other sheriffs. The one talking to a slightly dour-faced Pam was Victor Madden. That douche had thoroughly eye-fucked her, then tried to glamour her, when she had met him a year ago. Of course, that didn't work on her any more than it did on her cousins. There was also a dark, attractive Vamp with nineteenth century sideburns whose expression was at once intense and secretive. His dark eyes absorbed her beautiful tante like a long drink of cool water. Tante Sookie was simply and elegantly dressed in a white Prada sheath dress, her long golden hair elegantly twisted into a classic chignon. Oncle Eric would kill the dark-haired Vamp if he saw that look.

Kirsten was speaking with another dark-haired Vamp, this one tall and devilishly handsome, with a definite air of command. Kirsten smiled up at him, as he gazed tenderly down at her. A tall, Nordic female with long blond braids stoo with them. Zeline knew that Kirs and Jacques had fought, so this must be her new man. She took a frank, admiring look at his tall, perfectly proportioned body.

Zeline examined Kirsten intently as well, aware as only another supe could be of her cousin's changes. Kirsten was even more magnificent now that she had crossed. Against the cobalt blue of her silk dress, her skin seemed like peach tinted cream, and her register was exponentially more powerful. There was something special about this new man. Before stepping into view, Zeline focused and broadcast her thoughts to Kirsten.

_Way to go __ma petite amie! That was fast work!_

Kirsten's eyes darted across the room. She said something to her vamp who regarded Zeline with an intense, appraising look. Tall, dark and handsome said something to Kirsten, whose mouth quirked in a wry grin before she hurried to Zeline.

The cousins embraced unaware of the many males in the room who were admiring the equally tall and beautiful blond and brunette.

Silently she said, _I'm so sorry Kirs! I wish I had been with you that night…Next time you fight, I'll be there!_

Kirsten's expressive face assumed a look of implacable determination.

"The first fight's coming up Z. It'll be a blόt, though the bitch doesn't know that yet. Will you be my second? If I go down, I want this bitch finished off."

Zeline's look mingled eagerness and concern. "Of course I will Kirs. If this is the bitch that cut Del, I'll claw her to ribbons." She touched the silver hammer pedant that hung about her neck, topped by the staring face of Thor himself, "I swear it."

Zeline nudged Kirsten and projected, _Who's the dark vamp with the sideburns?_ _Dude looks like he got stood up for a date!_

Kirsten touched Zeline's temple so that she could receive her thoughts more strongly. Zeline was a weak telepath, Kirsten thought, because she never practiced. But contact usually did the trick.

_That's Bill Compton. You know the big IT vamp. Rich as hell apparently. Lives with a concert pianist now named Alyssa Wood--Del's played with her, so Bill's met Del. Alyssa's got supe blood, so the dude likes to mix his flavors, I guess. He and mom were an item once, but there was some serious shit between them. He's in the wedding pics, so I guess they got over it. Anyhow, this is the first I've seen of him. Felipe wanted him here, so he had to come.  
_

Zeline glanced at Eric who was eyeing Kirsten and Zeline with raised eyebrows. Because of the connection Kirs had established, his voice came through loud and clear to both of them.

_It's rude to speak a foreign language in front of our guests, especially now!_

Kirsten's lip quirked.

_How else can I fill Z in on all of the dirt about the ones she doesn't know? If we whisper they'll hear us._

Eric's eyebrows slanted in a frown.

_Then your information is better left unsaid and…un…thought!_

Toller and the Nordic woman joined them. Kirsten made the introductions. Zeline curtseyed to Toller, who was, after all, a king.

Her eyes flashed with amusement when he announced, "I'm astonished that one family could contain so many beautiful women."

Zeline touched her forehead in deference to the ancient Gythja.

"My connection to the Aesir is through the Fae and my distant German ancestors, but I am true."

Just then, Felipe De Castro swept into the room with the panache of a stage magician. His hallmark cape lined with red silk swirled about him as he made his grand entrance surrounded by members of his retinue, two of whom walked in front with his standard, a dove caught in a falcon's claws. Despite her father's orders, Kirsten telepathically translated the Latin for Zeline.

" '_Beati possidentes__,' __means 'The happy who possess.'"_

All of the non-royals bowed to the regent of three states, Zeline peeked up. His eyes raked over her boldly, from her sandals to her cleavage, finally sweeping over her face. His dark eyes narrowed speculatively and Zeline glared. Across the room Charles' face darkened and his hands began to glow. Niall gripped his arm. Charles hadn't missed Felipe's perusal or her flare of temper.

Felipe's arresting good looks would capture any woman's attention. He was a powerful, handsome man. She also knew from her relatives that De Castro was unscrupulous enough to take what he wanted. And what he wanted most was Del, now gone to the Fae realm. Zeline was afraid that she might be considered as a consolation prize. Was Felipe vindictive enough to wound Del that badly? From the look on Stan's face, he considered that a definite possibility. If they discovered that Felipe was behind the attack, Stan and Eric would kill him tonight. Zeline would enjoy watching the showy bastard die.

Felipe greeted the other royals; Eric and Sookie, then the most important dignitaries according to their rank.

When he approached Kirsten she sank into an effortless curtsy and murmured, "Mi Señor."

Felipe raised her. He, in turn, bowed. Kirsten's face flushed as every individual in the room including her mother and father, were obliged to do the same.

His dark, brown eyes softened, "Mi Doña. We rejoice that you have truly come into your own." He was fond of Kirsten.

Even as he played the role of affectionate guardian, Felipe's practical mind calculated what would be gained from Kirsten's crossing over. Kirsten Northman was beautiful, immensely powerful, and fertile. Many, many of the old ones would want her. The sooner she was betrothed, and under the protection of another powerful king, the better, though he would not see her unhappily wed.

Eric had informed him about Toller Hammarskjöld's visit, noting that they shared cultural ties and were linked by ancestry. Hammarskjöld's North Sea oil, shipping, and banking investments had made him immensely wealthy. As Kirsten's guardian and king, Felipe was entitled to a substantial percentage of her enormous bride price.

Felipe was genuinely outraged that the noble maidens under his protection had been attacked and violated. When he was informed of his darling Adele's rape and poisoning, he had crushed his custom mahogany desk with one blow. Adele should be _his _queen. Yet against his strongest admonitions, she had pledged herself to the barbaric Texan who would suspect _him_ of the worst. But there was still time, once she returned, to change her mind.

Beyond his passion for Adele, and affection for Kirsten, there was the matter of his kingdom's security. The attack upon such valuable women in the heart of Felipe's kingdom made him appear weak, and the necessity of Adele's physical removal by the Fae galled him to the core. His response must be well planned and entirely lethal if his kingdom was not to be considered ripe for invasion by other kings and queens.

The entire group turned as deep, resonant voice announced, "All rise for The Ancient Pythoness of Delphi and the High Gythja of the Aesir!" Kirsten sank to her knees before the holy women as was her duty as a novice.

"Bless me Mothers."

The ancient priestess smiled toothlessly and placed her withered hands on Kirsten's shining head.

"In the name of the Great Ones, be thou blessed."

The Ancient Pythoness was reverently seated in a throne-like chair at the head of the vast oak table.

Her stentorian voice announced, "Heed me now. We come together as allies united against a common enemy. This is a council of war, not a formal banquet. We meet at the brink. I would have each member speak his or her mind freely and tell all that they know."

Eric looked about the room. His family, Toller, Niall, and Stan, and the priestesses knew that they existed in a world where the words of prophesy had become reality.

Felipe folded his hands, and leaned forward, his dark eyes flashing, "My entire kingdom is on alert. I have committed my troops to pursuing, engaging, and destroying, the creatures who planned this attack." His gazed shifted dramatically, from Stan, to Niall, to the shifter Calvin Norris. "Sheriff Northman informs me that both Vampire and Fae forces participated in this attack. Despite the differences among us, in this we must be united. If my suspicious are correct, this attack is only the first battle of a much larger conflict that will affect us all."

"My intelligence has revealed that Queen Maude of Minnesota, King Jacek of Wisconsin, Queen Natasha of Alberta, and King Mosiah Young of Utah have formed a clandestine alliance under the guise of trade. Utah's activities are of great interest to me. Mercenaries are flocking to these allied states. Significantly, all of these rulers and many of their followers have the same sire or grandsire, Valur Sigurdsson, King of Iceland." The king glanced at Bill Compton. " Tell them what you have discovered."

Bill's coolly impersonal voice broke the stillness. "They also have major holdings in a multinational known as Fenris Corporation. It is a corporation in which many rogue nations have invested and in which many prominent Werewolves, such as Mr. Herveaux here, hold stock. " Felipe regarded Alcide Herveaux with deceptive mildness. "Perhaps Mr. Herveaux could enlighten us further regarding Fenris Corporation."

Alcide Herveaux shifted restlessly on his chair, "It's true that many Weres around the world have stock in Fenris Corporation. Although the human community is unaware of this, the company is almost solely run by Weres. The CEO, Adolphus Eberhardt, is the council leader and chief lawgiver of all of the Austrian packs. His grandfather founded the company just after World War Two. Because of his generous aid to many supernatural and human refugees, Conrad Eberhardt was considered a humanitarian--a good leader and businessman worthy of the Were community's financial support. His first ventures were in coal and petroleum, later expanding to include gold, diamonds, and a number of other commodities. During the past thirty years Fenris has shifted the bulk of its assets to nuclear energy and is now the world's sixth largest nuclear energy corporation. They even have an ad campaign promoting nuclear energy as a clean, safe alternative to our energy problems. Some Vampires and a few prominent humans have investments in Fenris as well."

Toller's eyes were glowing silver during Alcide's speech. Felipe acknowledged him with a nod, "Your Majesty has some knowledge of this company?"

Toller voice was cold and level, but more heavily accented than usual. "I have heard much of Fenris, more than perhaps Mr. Herveaux or many investors know. As Iceland and Norway are heavily invested in Fenris, I made it my business to find out as much as possible. Fenris Corporation's current European ad campaign has won over many leaders who are deeply concerned by the environmental disaster that humans have unleashed. Fenris claims that we must not allow misinformation and scare tactics to influence those making the important energy decisions. Yet, they are secretly involved in making one of the most accurate and lethal nuclear weapons -- the Scythe Peace Keeper missile. What only a few Weres and prominent supernatural followers realize is that Fenris is guided by the master of misinformation, he whose cunning is unsurpassed. Fenris's CEO and major investors have always been among his most devoted followers. The corporation is named Fenris with good reason."

Finna Hrútsdóttir's deep, calm voice commanded everyone's attention, "Kirsten Ericdóttir will explain. It will soon be her duty to relate the lore."

Kirsten glanced about the room. Some knew the lore; others did not. She knew that she must explain it properly so that her king, the shifter, Victor Madden, and the other sheriffs would at least understand the symbolism of the name.

Her voice was shakier than she would have liked. Fortunately no one seemed to notice the tremor in her voice. "Fenris is another name for Fenrir,a great ravening wolf," she began. "He is the son of the Jotten Loki-- the evil trickster, the fire Jotten, always mischievous, deceptive, and scheming. He is sacred to many shifters because he himself is a shape shifter. He and his son Fenrir are sacred to some Were clans because he is considered to be the father of the Were race and his son the first true Were. For a time the gods kept Fenrir in Asgard, but the wolf kept growing and eating, until it became clear, that if he were not contained, he would destroy them all. The gods tried to bind Fenrir, but he broke every fetter they created. Finally Odin, bound Fenrir to a rock with a magical chain made from impossible things: the sound of a cat's footfall, the beard of a woman, the roots of a mountain, bear's sinews, fish's breath, and bird's spittle."

Her voice became hushed. "It is prophesied that when Ragnarok, the end time, comes Fenrir will break his chains and aid in the destruction of the worlds."

Stan growled, "Many of the children of Fenrir are our enemies. Offspring of Loki attacked our villages, killed our livestock and destroyed our sacred places. I will not deny that there are many Weres who are innocent of blood insult against us, but those who actively follow Loki must be hunted down and destroyed for the preservation of the Tree and the survival of our races!"

Both Calvin Norris and Alcide Herveaux rose, their eyes glowing, snarls upon their lips. Far away, across a timeless void, the Bound One shifted, delighting in the ripples of chaos it detected.

The Ancient Pythoness rose from her seat, her voice booming. "Peace! Such behavior is exactly what our enemies hope for. Hear the words of the prophesy as they were given to me:

_Brothers will fight and kill each other,_

_Cousins will destroy kinship._

_It is hard in the world_

_The seas rise and Surt cracks the earth_

_Bringing famine and death_

_An ax age, a sword age, shields are split,_

_A wind age, a wolf age, before the world falls;_

_No man will spare another._

"Is it your desire to play into the hands of the enemy? Never doubt that the being known to some as Loki, the master of chaos and dissension, is the force behind this turmoil. When he rises, _which he most certainly will if you do not unite_ the world as we know it will end. He is the force behind the greed that caused the very climate of the earth to change. He has had ages in captivity to plan his assaults. Do you doubt that your weakness is his strength? Dividing the forces that would unite against him would further his goal and bring about Ragnarok! You, who are leaders and captains of your peoples, think well. Loki's allies are strong, organized. They have been promised great rewards.

If the mastermind was a vampire lord, allegiances would be demanded—and there would be war among the clans, possibly worldwide. Who are the powerful allies? If the attack upon the Northman Daughter Adele was overseen by a Fae lord, surely the vampires of Felipe de Castro, King Stan, and King Toller would join with the forces of Niall Brigant and there would be an inter-species war.

If one of the players is a Vampire King with many servants and children in prominent positions, the problem deepens. Sides will be drawn and there will be civil war among vampires. And if Weres take sides in this dispute as well, we will be engulfed in a world-wide interspecies war. The relative peace Supernaturals have enjoyed for nearly two decades will collapse. Loki understands very well that to divide is to conquer. Will you play right into his hands?" Her unseeing glare swept through the gathering as she sank back into her seat.

"Now, Prince Niall of the Álfar, please share with us what you have discovered."

Before speaking, Niall closed his eyes for a moment to review his knowledge and conclusions.

The presence of demons at the attack was significant. He was sure of that. But vampires as a rule did not lead demons, although they were not above employing them.

To command the obedience of so many demons, the middleman must be a powerful Fae lord. Who, of all of his enemies would be the most, determined and capable of such an act? There could only be one other who had the power, determination, and maliciousness of spirit to carry out such an offensive.

Opening his eyes, Prince Niall, the eldest and most powerful member of the Council, began to speak.

"I have inspected the demons and prisoners and have shared my great, great granddaughter Kirsten's memory of the attack. The Fae guards say that the demons are mercenaries hired out by a middleman they know as 'the Ice King' to abduct Kirsten, and rape and kill Adele. But 'the Ice King' is only one participant in this foul attack. The presence of the Vampire Brynjolfur indicates that the situation is more complicated."

His voice was filled with certainty. "The true mastermind behind this attack is crafty beyond our comprehension. He will use the designs of others to cloak his ultimate intentions. There is no doubt that my greatest enemy, the Fae Lord Sewell Ulswater, supplied the demons. The signature of his magic saturated the warded demons' minds. It was his magic that brought them into this world. The Ulswaters and Brigants have been adversaries for centuries. Eighteen years ago we defeated his forces here in Midgard and I banished him to the great chasm of Ginnungagap. A being of great power has released him and he is again at large. He would see my line extinguished and disgraced. Kirsten and Adele's abduction and defilementwould serve this purpose; he would certainly use them as pawns to force me to …abdicate my position…and release my retainers and territory to him."

If Ulswater were the only source of this evil, I would move to exterminate him immediately. Although my losses would be great, his would be greater. My warriors are more numerous and skilled and I have the command of legions of light elves and the backing of the Aesir." Here, he glanced at Alcide Herveaux. "There are also Were in my employ whose famlies have been connected to the Brigants for generations who provide support as scouts and bodyguards in this world."

While he paused, considering, Eric interjected.

"Under interrogation, both vampires admitted that they are sworn followers of the Jotten Loki. Bothvild, the female assassin, was hired by Ulswater to attack and poison Adele."

Niall resumed speaking. "I believe that my enemy has established links with adversaries of the Aesir--Loki, many Were clans, all of the Jotten clans of Jottenheim, and other supernaturals such as ancient vampires and their progeny who owe him allegiance. There are even humans devoted to him whom he has maneuvered into positions of power."

"Adele and Kirsten are magical beings whose lineage unites the three realms, human, vampire, and Fae for the first time in millennium. And now the tie is extended through Kirsten's link to the goddess Freya. It is essential that the supernatural community understand the magnitude of what has been set in motion."

He regarded each council member gravely, holding their eyes briefly.

"Ulswater's revenge involved striking at, Adele, the Brigant's most valuable asset. It is intimate and tribal, but I am certain that Loki, the Aesir's sworn enemy, had a hand in it as well. Adele Northman is a child tied to many worlds. As she matures, her powers will be vast. The Aesir claimed her and Kirsten from their conception and both girls are links to many realms, but it is Adele whose orlog will affect the wyrd of many realms. I suspect from the prisoners' revelations that Ulswater was freed by a deity sympathetic to Loki. Loki would not have had Ulswater freed unless Ulswater was sworn to obey him. The attack on Adele served them both.

There is more to be discovered but this much I do know with certainty. My great-great granddaughters are unifiers. They links the worlds by creating, bonds, both spiritual and physical, that have not existed for millennium, since early times when the worlds interacted more openly. And it is no accident that they were born in this time to such unique parents when the worlds are blighted physically and spiritually. For the time being Adele rests safely, protected within my sanctuary in Alfheim. Her healing progresses. I can say no more except that her ultimate fate is in the hands of the beings who aided in her conception. She is precious to them."

The council members sat in silence as the Prince's words permeated their thoughts.

The Ancient Pythoness' withered face turned unerringly.

"In light of the Prince's revelations, we will hear what Bill Compton has learned regarding the male rogue and his connections within the vampire clans."

Bill's cool voice could have been discussing the weather as he dropped his informational bomb.

"The rogue, who is now finally dead, was Brynjolfur Snorrason. He had been living in Newfoundland and Nova Scotia for the past century. Before that he roamed around Scandinavia. He was turned in the 10th century in what is now Norway. He is the child of Valur Sigurdsson the King of Iceland."

Toller snarled. Eric showed fang. Bill paused, his face impassive. King Felipe raised an eyebrow.

"King Toller, perhaps you can enlighten us?"

Toller's brows drew together.

"Valur Sigurdsson is a worshiper of the Jotten Loki and is my enemy in life and death. In my human youth, my father's chiefdom lay along the south-west coast of Sweden. Our clan was dedicated to Odin. My wife, Selin Sigurdsdóttir, was a seer, a priestess of the Aesir, dedicated to the goddess Freya. She and Valur were half-siblings, born twenty years apart. Valur was the oldest son and Selin the youngest child by Sigurdsson's youngest wife. Valur was supposedly killed in battle when Selin was an infant. So she would have no reason to suspect that her own brother would break thew and firth and become his sister's murderer. In a Sedir vision, she saw Loki breaking his bonds—she described Sigurdsson and his minions working for his release. She told us that the Aesir charged us with the task of destroying this creature Sigurdsson who had been made vampire.

While Selin was entranced—her consciousness stretched between the worlds--Loki perceived her and sent his vampire minion to kill her and destroy our village as a warning to mortals and to the gods themselves that, even bound, his power was immense and that his destiny was to destroy Midgård once unbound.

The very night that Selin spoke her vision and charged us with the gods' instructions, Sigurdsson struck our village. We had never seen nor heard of a vampire and did not understand his strength. He slaughtered our warriors, burnt our homes and butchered our women and children, feasting on the blood of their lifeless bodies, until only Selin and I were left alive.

Toller's voice deepened, his features taut with a grief he had never overcome.

"We stood back to back our swords drawn. Of course, his movements were a blur and he broke Selin's neck and took her to the ground. I called the gods' rage into myself and attacked, driving the creature into a burning house and Sigurdsson burnt like a torch. I was sure that I had killed him."

Toller smiled grimly as he recalled the satisfaction of that moment. His mouth tightened.

"But he did not finally die. While I was holding my woman, he escaped and went to ground. I prayed to the Lady Freya to give me Sigurdsson's nature so that I might fulfill my oath and avenge my wife, my unborn child and my people. And she led me to Aesa Stefansdottir, my maker, and a faithful follower of the Aesir in life and death. Together we sought Sigurdsson, destroying all of his children that we could discover, until one night he ambushed my maker and staked her."

Toller paused, his face bleak with the sorrow of those memories. A tear trickled down Kirsten's cheek. She could almost hear the crackle of the flames and the awful silence of the dead villagers. She could see Selin's head lolling unnaturally as Toller raised her to remove the leather thong and ancient blade from around her broken neck.

"And after all of these centuries we are still bound to our oaths and bound to the destiny to which the gods have called us. It was our destiny to be Kings and it is still my destiny to make this evil bastard definitely dead."

Eric shifted in his seat so that he faced Toller.

"I do not think that it is coincidence that Sigurdsson rules the only land where the huldufolk, especially the dark Fae, are still plentiful."

A silence settled across the council as each individual pondered what this information meant for his people and what he was willing to commit.

Alcide Herveaux spoke.

"I guarantee that the local Supe community will patrol the area, guard Sookie and Kirsten while they are in our territory, and keep our eyes and ears open. If an enemy is spotted, we will kill them on sight.

Calvin Norris who had listened, keeping his peace added, "The panthers have kinship ties to Sookie. Her enemies are our enemies. We'll fight when called upon."

Eric nodded and Sookie breathed a soft sigh of relief. While she had been sure that the kinship tie might commit the panthers, the support of the Weres and other Supes had not been certain. Kirsten was not a Friend of the Pack in her own right, and had no official status within their community.

Deep in thought, Felipe de Castro stroked his goatee. There would be other shifter communities involved in this conflict—many of whom would _not_ be on their side. If events escalated, there could be an all-out interspecies war and the powers released during that could very well upset the balance of power, both magical and physical, across the worlds.

It was beyond debate that action must be taken. The attackers might have failed to abduct the girls, but the affront to the Fae and Vampire races was so dire that they must wage war or be perceived as perilously weak and cowardly.

As if they had shared thoughts Niall Brigant spoke.

"There is a greater being behind this than either Sigurdsson, who is greedy and calculating, or Ulswater, who is a malicious, power grubbing go-between. It is a power working for its own ends who uses the petty desires of lesser being to achieve its own objectives. If this being is Loki, some of the Were communities will fight for him for he was always a shape shifter although he is now bound to one form. Many European Weres reverence him.

I, of course, commit all of the resources of Alfheim to destroy all enemies and threats to my family. All of my retainers, twenty battalions of light elves, and any Supes in my employ will commit to this course of action. There can be no reconciliation with these adversaries. Make no mistake; they will crush us if we falter."

Eric, Toller and Niall shared an intense look. In committing his forces, Toller would create a bond among their clans. They would also owe him a very large debt and his pledge of support would augment his already favorable position as a suitor. In eradicating the forces massed against them, he might also secure his future with Kirsten. Toller confirmed his committment.

"My retainers will fight Sigurdsson and his followers. Because of our hostility, I have had informants placed in his kingdom for many years. They tell me that Sigurdsson has met with the Fae lord Ulswater and that they are connected in this aggression. My forces are closest and are in position to strike. Finland and Denmark will stand by me if this…crisis…escalates. Norway shares close ancestral ties with Iceland. She will declare for Sigurdsson when he asks her allegiance."

Felipe turned to Bill Compton. "Does Sigurdsson have any other children in North America?"

"Queen Maude of Minnesota, King Jacek of Wisconsin, and Queen Natasha of Alberta, are Sigurdsson's children, and Sigurdsson is King Mosiah Young of Utah's grandsire. Maude owes him allegiance. Michigan, her husband, would support her."

There was another significant silence as everyone contemplated the possibility of a civil war among the North American vampires as the obligations arising from debts and alliances were called into play.

"Utah is a definite threat. However, most of the Southeast and Southwest would side with us," Castro observed coolly. "The new queen of California has initiated overtures toward a royal alliance. She may side with us as well. Nevertheless, should this conflict become a full-blown civil war, there will be tremendous destruction. Humans will inevitably die. If the deaths are links to Vampires and other supernaturals, there will be new persecutions---possibly an all out war against the Supernatural community…"

He turned to Kirsten who had been listening intently.

"Querida, as a noblewoman of our people, you have a right to express your opinion."

Kirsten's eyes were glacial and quite ruthless, her voice low and intense.

"The attack would have happened no matter what we had done to prevent it."

She looked around the table until her eyes rested upon her father and mother

"Our beliefs teach us that to name a power is to summon its attention. I felt a presence …a powerful will…lurking behind the Lady Freya when I called her down into myself. She was aware of it, but she didn't acknowledge it. They are maneuvering against each other…"

She bowed her head and touched her forehead where the small abstract curves traced a tiny tri-spiral.

"I mean no disrespect to the Aesir, or my Lady, when I say this. I am glad that our enemies underestimated us. We're aware of them now. Their mistake has made us stronger. If they wanted to abduct Adele and me, they failed. And now I'm stronger than they realize. Adele will be stronger too. When they lost the battle, they lost the element of surprise. Now we know who they are and that they can be beaten. When I enter my ordeal, I will use Sedir magic to root them out." Her eyes blazed fiercely, "And when I offer up my enemy to the goddesses, they will join us in our battle."

Niall nodded. The old soul in the younger woman's body had recognized these truths.

"We are caught in an ancient struggle between the forces of chaos and destruction and forces of order. It has a name in every culture. For the Christians it is Armageddon, for the Norse it is called Ragnarok."

Sookie had held her peace as the massive iceberg of intent beneath the near fatal attack upon her girls was revealed. She perceived the worldwide misery such a conflict would create. The men saw it too; they were just more ready to launch themselves into the fray. _"Men!_" she thought, mentally rolling her eyes. _"They only think in one direction."_ No matter how clever, they always defaulted to death and mayhem.

Speaking aloud she said, "Don't you think that there may still be a way around all out battle? It sounds like we're on the brink, but not quite there yet. "

She smiled at her husband who was shaking his head wryly. You just never knew with Sookie…

"You talk a lot about general destiny, your wyrd, and personal destiny, what you call orlog. Maybe it's our destiny to play a few games of our own. You say we're dealing with a devious being. Well, from what I've seen, maybe our best strategy right now has to use our knowledge of high stakes games." She smiled. "We own a casino. And I _know_ all of y'all are very good at playing poker."

Niall nodded slowly.

"You may be right great-granddaughter. It seems we are agreed that Loki desires to destroy the old world order. Despite his binding he has manipulated world events; put his followers, human and supernatural, in positions of power and authority in the realms of international industry and politics, and is now almost ready to make his play. If he triumphs, all that we hold dear will be destroyed."

Toller nodded solemnly. "Fenris Corporation has influenced politicians and world leaders, whose greed has brought environmental disaster, armed conflicts, and terrorism to Midgard and now threatens the supernatural community. Their nuclear power plants and weapons span the globe, held by rogue leaders who will follow Loki's orders through glamour or natural proclivity."

Felipe's velvet-edged voiced added. "My entire kingdom is on alert. I will ensure that our allies gather their forces. Compton, you will assist me with any intelligence that you can discover through your data bases and research. On behalf of my sheriff and his lady, I acknowledge the friendship and pledges of support from the Weres and shifters. Your friendship will be rewarded."

The Ancient Pythoness's harsh uncompromising voice announced. " So, we are in alliance for the duration of this crisis. Kirsten, Ericdóttir will accompany me and Finna Hrútsdóttir, High Gythja of the Aesir tonight to begin preparations for initiation and battle, as will her young kinswoman. Pledged to the Aesir, she will be initiated also - the gods will make use of her powers. Should Kirsten fall in battle, she will stand for her kinswoman. All kindred, by blood or intent, must be present at the sacred grove in three days time in the full dark of the new moon. "

Zeline's eyes blazed with excitement and joy. Kirsten stared straight ahead with resolve. Bill's face was very cold and still. Only his dark eyes flashed briefly. But he could not object to the direct orders of the Ancient Pythoness any more than the kings present.

Niall embraced his great-great granddaughters.

"The gods are with you in this. I will be there to represent your Fae kindred and to stand witness for Adele."

Charles swept Zeline into his arms and held her tightly. He would not hold her again until after the blόt. Toller's eyes met and held Kirsten's. There was an almost imperceptible note of pleading in his face.

_Be on your guard Sváss. The Goddess will guide you. I will be at your side should the need arise._

After Bill, King Felipe, his retinue, the shifter and the Weres departed, the priestess rose and called for Kirsten and Zeline. Eric and Sookie embraced them. Sookie's eyes swam with tears, but she held them back. She cupped her hands around her daughter's face projecting her love, and pushing back her fear.

_I love you…I'll be there for you. _Sookie's eyes became fierce. _And you will survive this battle. I won't allow you to be…hurt…whatever the consequences are for me._

_Mom I won't let __you__ be hurt!_

Sookie kissed Kirsten and hugged her tightly.

_You've been trained by the best. You are the best. You just focus on whatever it takes to defeat this bitch. _

Eric put his forehead against his daughters and whispered in Old Norse, "I am very proud of your Dottir. Never forget that Northmans are warriors and we survive and triumph because we battle well and wisely. All that you have learned and all that you have become must go into this battle with you."

Niall nodded to Claudine, who smiled mischievously. "This many not be the height of current fashion, but it is required for your present task." She snapped his fingers. The girls' hair fell free, and they were suddenly clothed in unbleached linen dresses that fell to their ankles. Zeline grinned and Kirsten suppressed a snort.

Zeline whispered. "You'd think that the Goddess of love would want something a little fancier…"

Finna smiled frostily. "She is also a Valkyrie and simplicity is better suited to initiation. We go now to the sacred grove where the Goddess awaits us."

******************************************

When all of the guests had departed or retired to their rooms, Sookie buried her face against the strong muscles of Eric's chest. They had been apart for over a week, a week that had changed the direction of their lives--a week that had taken both their daughters from them, but given them the promise of a new life. Eric's eyes brimmed with tenderness and passion. His hand slipped inside the neckline of her dress.

_It's been too long min älskare. I want to touch, feel, taste, all of you. I need you now!_

The fire of his touch ran through her and she shivered with need. It had been too long since they made love. She was still angry with him for making decisions about Adele's fate without consulting her, but the need in his eyes matched the longing in her soul. After all their years together, Eric's touch still made her knees weak and her heart pound. A delicious heat shuddered through her body as he planted a tantalizing kiss in the hollow of her neck and whispered, "It's time to go upstairs where we can be alone." He lifted her into his arms and rose into the night. Landing on a protected balcony, they entered a luxurious penthouse adorned with a Chihuly red and orange hand-blown glass chandelier. Enormous windows of lightproof glass surrounded their lush retreat. Moving down their private gallery of heirloom teakwood carvings and the sumptuous art of several centuries, Eric carried Sookie to their master bedroom with its California king four poster bed.

He unzipped her dress and hissed as it slithered to the floor, his fangs descending at the sight of her shapely golden beauty. Sookie shivered with anticipation as cool fingers trailed along the supple curves of her back, unhooking her bra and stroking her warm, silken skin. Her nipples firmed to Eric's touch as he worshipped her smooth, heavy breasts. In a voice husky with desire he whispered, "Pregnancy becomes you, lover. Your breasts are more beautiful than ever." His words sent a bolt of heat straight to Sookie's core, drenching her instantly. She unbuttoned his shirt, licking and nipping at his glorious chest. Eric groaned and seized her lips, scorching her to her toes with a passionate kiss. As Sookie caressed his fangs with her tongue, Eric's large fingers touched her slick folds. "So wet…so wet for me, my lover." Sweeping her up, Eric gently laid her on their bed. A soft moan escaped her as Eric began tasting her soft skin.

As his tongue and lips explored the rosy peaks of her breasts, fire raced through her veins, melting her. She gasped as he trailed open mouthed kisses down her taut belly to the swell of her hips. His voice was thick with desire as he parted the slick satin folds that no other man would ever touch.

"I watched him tonight wanting you. Even now, when he knows that he will never have you, he would give anything to be where I am, touching you as I touch you."

Eric paused to inhale the sweet fertile, scent of his woman, then flattened his tongue and licked her warm, wet core possessively. Sookie cried out, her hands fisted in Eric hair as a wave of pure lust surged from her toes to her fingertips.

"But he will never touch you. No other man will ever touch you. Because…" His tongue stabbed deeper, and a hot ache erupted as she pulsed up against him. She wailed as he pulled away, "You… are…"

He took her hand and wrapped it around his throbbing length … "Mine!"

Their tongues battled and swirled. As he entered her, Sookie rose up to meet his urgent thrust. Their bodies rocked in a savage harmony. She exulted in the power and beauty of her man even as he reveled in the scent, taste, sound and feel of the goddess beneath him--the beauty that was and always would be his and his alone. She began to tremble with each new thrust, as electricity seemed to pour through her. Her breath came in long surrendering moans. As she clenched around him, he bit, drinking greedily for the last time until after the birth, and exploded into her with a deep, shuddering groan.

They clung together through many waves of aftershocks until finally they were spooned beneath the sateen damask sheets. Eric's thigh pressed against her wet sex as one hand gently cupped her breast. As his other hand caressed her belly, Eric thanked his gods for the new, hidden life that grew within. Soon, Sookie would want to talk, and then - then they would make love again. Perhaps after that, they would relax in the Italian marble Jacuzzi, bathing each other tenderly, then love again, until the dawn took them both.

As Sookie dozed, the photos on their bedside table caught Eric's eye. His mouth quirked as he took in the sexy shots Sookie had created as a fifth anniversary gift. The woman lying beside him was every bit as beautiful today, and would be a century from now. His gaze turned to the wall directly opposite their bed, stopping on a treasured photo taken shortly after the girls were born. In it, Sookie was snuggled against him in a pretty spring dress and his infant daughters lay fast asleep upon his broad chest. Sookie's face was suffused with love, and his own visage was uncharacteristically soft.

Their home and even their penthouse suite were filled with photos, but of them all, this first family portrait was the most meaningful. After a millennium, it marked the beginning of a miraculous new life for Eric and unlike many human parents, he never took a moment of it for granted. He had been so certain, then, that he could always protect them and keep them from harm. But his vigilance had wavered for a moment, and their lives had been changed forever in the course of a single night.

As they rested together, Eric and Sookie were silent; the only sounds were the steady rhythms of Sookie's breath and heart. Once more, he inhaled the rich perfume of his woman's pregnant body. She began to wake and despite her physical bliss, he could feel a red thread of anger still humming in their bond. Eric kissed her shoulder, cupping her breast, and pulled her against him.

"You are still upset with me…"

Sookie took a moment to consider her answer, then turned to face him.

"At first I was furious with you. I was hurt that you just talked over my head. I know that you are a leader and this is a crisis. But I am your wife. For Christ's sake Eric! I couldn't be there with them…I couldn't fight for them…and when I touched their minds, they shut me out…then I was just terrified… I couldn't defend them, but I felt their terror. And you were there and you got to fight, and then you just made this decision without me Eric…you shut me out too. I could feel your emotions across the bond… and, what made me even madder, you could feel me and you closed the door to my emotions. Even though turning Adele wasn't possible, you took responsibility for Adele's future without counting me in and…and…I just can't bear that. "

"What would you have said to me?" Eric asked gently.

Sookie's mouth twisted into a wry smile. "I'd be a liar if I said I could have just let Adele go without a fight. I would want to fight for Adele's life. If turning her was possible and it was the only option, maybe I would have agreed. I don't want anything to happen to the baby I'm carrying now, and I understand the choices that you made. It's just that you didn't give me a _choice_ Eric. It wasn't mine."

Her breath caught in a sob and he held her close as the weight of Adele's near death settled upon them. Even in the supernatural realm, even for immortals and near immortals, death came in an instant--the body collapsed, and the vital spark that animated it traveled beyond their grasp.

"Oh God, Eric I can't bear the thought of losing any of you! But I knew in my heart that Adele couldn't be turned, and I would have told you that if you'd only given me a chance."

Eric ran his hand gently up and down Sookie's back, loving her feel, her scent, and her indomitable spirit. He willed himself to swallow his pride for her sake—for their sakes.

"I am sorry Dear One." He paused. No other being would ever hear him confess such weakness, "I felt …desperate to try to save our Del." His voice dropped to a low whisper. "I have failed her."

Sookie shifted in Eric's arms, raising herself on one elbow so she could look into his eyes. She kissed his lips gently but kept a bit of steel in her voice.

"Before the girls were born I would have been on my high horse for quite some time."

Her lovely eyes stared intently into his, "But I've lived some since then, and we've traveled too long a road together for me to give up on you." She tucked a strand of his long golden hair behind his ear and began brushing feathery kisses down his neck and chest. When the kisses reached his hardening manhood, she whispered,

"…because…you…are…_mine_…"

* * *

In case you don't know of him, Dale Chihuly is an amazing and renowned glass artist. Google him --his work's amazing!

Also, please keep my husband Pat and our family in your thoughts and prayers. Pat was in a nearly fatal accident this Tuesday and had to be air lifted to the hospital. He is home now, but it will be many weeks before he is healed.

**This was a long chapter. Please give me the gift of your review. **

***hugs*  
**


	11. Chapter 11

Dark Storm Rising

Chapter 11-- Fire and Ice

**A/N:** Thank you so much for your prayers and good wishes. My husband, Pat, is home and healing! _Huldufolk_ are the "hidden people" who seem to inhabit a sort of parallel universe. They are a Viking version of Fae. In Viking settled Iceland, belief in the _huldufolk_ runs so high that, even today, contractors sometimes delay or reroute road construction to avoid their territory! In Old Norse sagas they are linked to the Aesir, the Norse Gods. The Aesir and the Fae share a special relationship. They are often named together in Norse sagas. Midgard is our human world. Asgard and Alfheim are the worlds of the gods and elves, i.e. Fae. To Norsemen, the Aesir were powerful, and not to be trifled with, but one could be familiar, and comfortable with them as well. Odin's term "utgard" means, outsider or outcast, as opposed to" inangard," a member of the society or clan.

**Thanks AmaZen and FDM for allowing me to bounce my ideas off of your brilliant minds, and for keeping DSR on course. *hugs***

**Charlaine Harris's characters are hers and hers alone. My characters and the concept of Daughters of the Blood are mine and mine alone.**

* * *

_**A clouded dream on an earthly night  
Hangs upon the crescent moon  
A voiceless song in an ageles light  
Sings at the coming dawn  
Birds in flight are calling there  
Where the heart moves the stones  
It's there that my heart is longing  
All for the love of you...**_

_**And so it's there my homage's due  
Clutched by the still of the night  
And now I feel you move  
Every breath is full  
So it's there my homage's due  
Clutched by the still of the night  
Even the distance feels so near  
All for the love of you. **_

"_**The Mystic's Dream" by **__**Loreena Mccennitt**_

_

* * *

_

The presence of huldufolk permeated the alien landscape. Thick moss, from smoke grey to scarlet, clung to fields of coarse black volcanic rocks speckled with golden and reddish-brown flowers and alive with streams and waterfalls. Plumes of steam rose high into the air from vents that plummeted toward Midgård's molten core.

King Valur Sigurdsson's Icelandic realm had few humans to scare off the huldufolk who divided their time between Svartalfheim, the world of the dark elves and dwarves, and Midgård. Here in this wild, treeless landscape were what the old Vikings knew to be the elf doors. He was pleased that, to this day, most modern Icelanders respected the areas claimed by the "hidden ones." Out here in the brief dark of an Arctic spring, there were no humans for many miles.

He seethed with a ferocious anger. The death of his child, a trained assassin, at the hands of the Rus, Northman was a bitter blow. Stupid Brynjolfur. Stupid to get caught when all he had to do was abduct two little maidens. The demons and Ulswater could have the little Fae bitch who might wreck so much havoc , but the tall beauty named Kirsten , the Blood Daughter, he wanted. When he claimed her, he would fuck her several times a night until he impregnated her and even then he would fuck her until she submitted to his rule in all ways.

As punishment for his failure to capture the Daughters, The Bound One had tormented him with a vision of the fiasco in the woods of Louisiana.

He had stroked himself and grown hard at the sight of Kirsten Northman's magnificent bare breasts and the ripple of her lithe muscles as she fought like a battle maiden of old. Her magnificent bronzed body glistened with sweat as she called down the battle fury and attacked his forces, jabbing, parrying, kicking and slashing with deadly accuracy. He would have to visit one of his whores tonight to work off his frustration. Then Kirsten was in Hammarskjöld's arms, and Hammarskjöld's mouth covered hers hungrily as she curled into the curve of his body. When the Old World fell and the New Order of the Jotten began, all vampires would swear fealty to Valur Sigurdsson, their emperor. Then, he would avenge his dishonor and his child, and Hammarskjöld and his allies would beg to greet the sun.

The air shimmered a few yards in front of him as the Fae lord Sewell Ulswater stepped into view. Sigurdsson viewed him with distaste. Superficially, Ulswater seemed an effete little bastard, but he was truly one of the most merciless and organized leaders Sigurdsson had ever encountered. Valur deeply respected those qualities.

Ulswater always chose to speak in an upper crust British accent from an era when all other classes were lesser beings—part of the effete persona that many of his enemies had made the mistake of dismissing as weak.

"He's quite furious you know. And, I must say, I am moderately disappointed myself. I supplied you with enough demons to take out an elite battalion of humans and the infamous Bothvild and yet none of them survived to capture two little girls!"

He tittered, shook his head, and flashed a smile with nothing behind it but teeth.

"Valur, Valur, what am I to do with you? There is no consolation prize for failure, you know. Still, you will be of no use to the Bound One if you are headless. And so, in his infinite mercy, He has compelled me to inform you that you are to be given an opportunity to redeem yourself. Ragnarok is close—Midgard sickens and the human race still pursues its greedy ends to the ruin of all—the Bound One shifts in his chains and all bonds that were forged of the Aesir's magic must be released."

Valur clenched his fists and growled, "I am a king and you will speak to me as such!"

Ulswater's black eyes hardened. There was no mercy in his face. His dark aura crackled as he gathered power from the unquiet earth. He was stronger than the vampire and they both knew it.

"Fool! You should have led the attack yourself instead of leaving it to your idiot child. Your long years have made you both lazy and stupid. The Fae daughter is lost to us and the one you lust for is now a most formidable enemy, as your blunder hastened her transformation. We must find another way to achieve our ends. Fortunately for you, there is another whose capture will suffice – if you can manage it. Their mother, the Viking Eric Northman's mate and Brigant's great granddaughter, will serve as well. You will bring her to me at the crossroads and I will…take her to meet her daughters' true maker. Don't fuck it up, old boy."

Sigurdsson glared at Ulswater.

"And what is my reward for this action?"

Ulswater arched his delicate eyebrows in mock surprise.

"Other than the satisfaction of serving the god to whom you are bound and whom you have so recently and stunningly failed? Who has already given you a millennium of riches and a kingdom where you alone of all of the vampire kings have dominion over the dark elves of the huldufolk? You vampires are such shockingly lustful fellows. If you succeed, the transformed one, Kirsten, shall be yours and your kingdom will increase immeasurably."

Sigurdsson's fangs had descended. He licked his thin lips anticipating the feel and taste of such a woman and the riches that would be his.

"I am the Bound One's servant. I swear that I will do as he commands…"

Ulswater waited for the oath to be completed.

In a much lower voice Sigurdsson added, "...or die in the attempt."

And the Bound One heard.

* * *

In a deeply warded pocket of Alfheim, Ciaran Ó Máille, Fae lord and one of the chief healers of his people, walked upon a wooded path beside Adele Northman. Here in her great-great-grandfather's sanctuary, she had cast off the magical ward she wore at all times in Midgard. Her long pale gold hair cascaded over a green speckled cloak. A graceful, gold brooch of airy Celtic knot work unique to the Brigant clan was fastened above her breast, and the tunics worn by each bore interlocking patterns and colors that signified their clans.

Several weeks had passed in Midgard since the attack and Louisiana would be sweltering in the summer heat. But here in Alfheim, time flowed differently and it was still early spring. Ciaran's warm brown eyes regarded his charge with affection and concern. Today he would have to tell her the truth that he had withheld until he felt that she was strong enough to bear it. He must present it carefully and delicately--she was still so fragile--like a delicate tracery of frost that would dissolve with the slightest warm touch. He had come to love and admire Adele these past weeks. She was a being of great serenity and sensitivity. She was exquisitely beautiful, and an artist of great talent. Her healing would come, in part, through her art--if she would allow herself to heal and accept the gift he offered.

He spoke to her gently in the melodic dialect of their people.

"You are tiring. We have walked overlong."

She managed a small, tentative smile. "I am a little tired. But I walked farther today. I'm getting stronger, and I can relax here." She looked into his brown eyes and touched his arm gently in the way of their people. "I can be myself here."

They stopped to rest on a lichen-covered boulder beside a little stream that tumbled over its rocky bed as it made its way down the hillside. Green shoots were just beginning to emerge, and tiny yellow flowers peeked out from the dense carpet of last year's leaves. The earth beneath her bare feet pulsed with magic.

A gentle breeze touched the old leaves still clinging to their branches and they trembled like lost souls. New buds clung like tiny fists, waiting for more warmth to help them unfurl. A wren chattered in the bare branches above her. In the distance, a hawk let loose a single cry whose piercing sadness carried Adele's thoughts back to her first days of healing.

The demon's attack had shaken her to her core. She had retreated into a small corner of her consciousness warding herself so heavily that only Prince Niall and Claudine could approach her.

"I am stone." She told herself over and over, "There is no feeling, no memory, nothing but the force of time washing over me."

For the first two weeks, she would allow her cousin Claudine to lie next to her and hold her, but would not speak aloud. When the Prince tried to touch her mind, she blocked him firmly. But in the background, she was dimly aware of Ciaran, the healer, instructing Claudine and consulting with the Prince.

Many days ago, when they thought that she was sleeping, she had overheard him speaking with the Prince and Claudine.

"Will she heal?" Her great-great grandfather's voice was low and troubled.

"Her magical core has been compromised by the vast energies that she channeled," Ciaran said. After a pause, he added "I have consulted with the council of healers and we believe that here in Alfheim where she has no need to ward and there is no iron to harm her, Adele will eventually heal, but…"

"There is more…"

"Yes. It is possible that the stress of crossing between worlds might kill her. She may never be able to return to her loved ones in Midgard."

Adele had blocked out the rest of the hateful words as an image had focused in her memory. It was a warm day just after their fourth birthdays. Dew sparkled on the grass. She and Kirsten had each picked a buttercup and Sookie had shown them how to hold it under their chins to see if they liked butter. The warm sunshine had poured down on them as they giggled, seeing who loved butter the most.

For the first time since the attack she had cried, weeping silently for her lost childhood and the relative normality of her old life in Midgard. She cried for Stan, whose mind she could not reach. She cried for her family. She wept for all of the beings who would be lost in the gathering darkness.

Not long after that, Ciaran had taken over her care. Slowly, slowly, he had coaxed her to eat, then to speak a little, and finally to leave her room and walk a little with him in the beautiful, gently rolling woodlands of Prince Niall's sanctuary. Little by little, her spirit had begun to heal.

Ciaran took her slender hand in his, calling her back to the present moment. His brown eyes were gentle, compassionate.

"You miss Midgard--your family and," he hesitated, "the vampire king to whom you are pledged in that world."

For an instant wistfulness stole into her expression.

"I miss my family. But I know that I'm not ready to return to them. I'm still…torn…in body and spirit. I've lost my link to my sister. It wasn't that our minds were fused, but our bond was always there--like my heartbeat. And yes, I miss Stan terribly. His magic makes me feel safe and takes away the burden of the ward. He loves me…and I love him"

"He is vampire, a predator...how can such a one truly love?"

Adele replied with firm but gentle strength. "My father is vampire and yet he loves. They are old, complex beings. They have grown beyond mere cravings. What I have learned of loving relationships, I have learned from my parents. Stan makes me happy. He loves me unconditionally, despite my wyrd. He respects me, supports me, and cares for me. We can laugh and relax together. He would never intentionally hurt me. He is the only mate I will ever choose in Midgard. Together we can face what is to come…even this…even now."

Ciaran shook his head. "He will still crave your blood. It is his nature."

She touched her delicate, Fae ears. "Despite these, I am a still a Daughter of the Blood. My father's bloodline is also a part of me. I understand and accept his nature as he accepts mine."

A comfortable silence fell as they watched two yellowed leaves chase each other down the murmuring stream.

Ciaran's warm, smooth fingers stroked hers softly, and the powerful register of his magic rippled through her. He was beautiful, kind, a Fae lord of immense power. Adele was by no means blind to his attractions. He had brought her back from the brink of death and had opened his heart to her.

He raised his hand in a slight beckoning gesture, saying, "Music is your connection to your inner self. I hope that this will aid in your healing."

A soft gasp escaped her as a violin case appeared in her lap. She opened it with trembling fingers. Swaddled in midnight blue velvet, was the instrument of her dreams, a 1735 Guarneri Del Gesù violin known as "the Ladenburg." She reverently stroked the hand carved maple and spruce body. The great violinist and composer Paganini himself had touched, loved, and brought this instrument to life. His spirit and passion were imbued in its wood. It was a gift of immense thoughtfulness and…love.

She stared at him in astonishment, her voice low, intense. "This is priceless…I'm not worthy of such a gift…"

He brushed his hand against her cheek. For an instant his warm brown eyes glowed with an inner fire. "_You_ are priceless. I have come to love you deeply, Adele," he said softly, eyes probing to her very soul. "Will you share my life in this realm?"

Adele dropped her eyes before his steady gaze. She could not but be honest with him. "I love Stanislaus…"

Ciaran knew that the vampire had claimed her in Midgard, but her true place was here in the haven of their people, with him. He raised her chin gently.

"Your wyrd is harsh, Adele. I hold no grudge against the mate you have chosen in Midgard. He and I were selected in these realms to help you fulfill your wyrd. Are you willing to commit to me in this realm?"

Her eyes searched his deeply.

She owed Ciaran kindness and friendship at the very least, and he deserved a truthful answer. "You are my friend…and healer…you must give me time to accept my duty to the Álfar."

Ciaran's gaze was a soft as a caress. "I will wait until you are ready. Perhaps, in time, you will come to love me." It was a sign of his sincerity.

They gazed at each other and then Ciaran smiled in earnest. "I have only heard you play once. It will be enough, for now, if you will play for me. "

A dim flush raced like a fever across her pale, beautiful face. She lifted the bow.

"I'll play _Melody_ from _Orfeo Ed Euridice_ because the power of Orpheus' music moved even the cold hearts of the Hades and his queen, and because you've led me back from the dead."

Ciaran's expression stilled and grew serious. "But, unlike Eurydice, you will not to slip back into the darkness."

A small smile of enchantment touched her lips. She breathed deeply, and tucked her head against the chin-rest. Her tawny lashes touched her cheek as she closed her eyes and drew her bow across the strings. She radiated pure passion as her expressive face rippled with the emotions of lover and beloved; grief, longing, and a love that challenged death itself for the sake of the beloved.

For the first time a human instrument sounded in the realm of the Álfar. The magic of Adele's music flowed across the sun-dappled woodlands, and mingled with the earth and air. Delling, the Guardian of Alfheim's threshold, felt its deep compelling touch. Heimdal, the Guardian of the Threshold of Asgard, felt it wash across him as he stood on the Rainbow Bridge, and in his great hall Odin stood and smiled. It was the sign he had awaited. Although she did not yet realize what was to come, his Beloved had called to him.

He reached out and whispered, "Reveal thyself, that I might see thee as thou art truly wrought."

As she soared, lost in her music, a current of magic touched her, and Adele shed her earthly form and became a glowing image of light and love. Ciaran's senses spun. As the magic flowed about him, he lost himself in the beauty of Adele Northman. Every day that he spent with her, his love for her deepened and intensified.

There was a ripple, like sunlight chased by cloud shadow, and Niall Brigant stood beside Ciaran Ó Máille, regarding his great-granddaughter with boundless love.

"Behold The Rose--the bridge between the worlds. Is she not glorious?"

As the last strains of the Melody faded into silence, Adele's light dimmed and she became aware of Prince Niall. She placed the magnificent violin carefully back in its case, curtseyed deeply, and embraced her great-great grandfather.

Despite their closeness, Niall was her lord, and she owed him her respect, especially in the presence of another powerful Fae lord.

"My lord. I'm glad to see you."

Niall hugged her gently, "And I you, dearest."

Adele was his heart's darling. Ulswater would die horribly for what his pure and powerful Adele had endured.

He held Adele's hand as he turned to Ciaran

"Thank you for attending Adele, my lord, and for the wondrous gift you have given her. As you are in the most deeply warded area of the sanctuary, your kinsmen have contacted me. Dark elves have overwhelmed the Threshold's Guardian, Delling, and his troops. He killed many, but a horde is advancing upon your territories. "

A shadow of alarm touched Ciaran's face, "Treachery!"

Niall's face closed, as if guarding a secret, "Undoubtedly, the enemy will attempt to attack Brigant lands as well. I do not understand how Delling was compromised. He had been the Threshold Guardian for millennium without incident."

Ciaran hesitated, taking Adele's measure.

"I must go. You'll be safe here in the sanctuary. No enemy can enter here."

Warning spasms of alarm erupted within her as Adele sensed what they hadn't said. The enemy was coming for her as well. Some great malicious force desired her death. "No Ciaran, this time they'll will breach the defenses-unless I'm able to channel at full strength. I feel it!"

She cast her fear aside. "Ciaran, great-great grandfather, how can I help? I am ready to use my gifts to defend our people."

The Prince cast down his eyes and shook his head.

"Such an effort would destroy you utterly. I will not permit it unless your strength is fully renewed."

Her throat seemed to close up. "Ciaran? Please tell me what you know."

A sense of intense desolation swept over her as Ciaran confirmed that her magical core was indeed dangerously compromised.

The white-gold curtain of her hair fell forward as she swallowed hard and bit back tears.

She spoke in a broken whisper, "There must be a way. I'll do whatever it takes to return to Midgård."

Ciaran regarded her tenderly. "You are the most powerful Fae channeler of this millennium. The gods have chosen you and a fierce web of wyrd gathers about you. The Prince has found a way for you to return, but it will not be easy."

Adele spoke with quiet, but deliberate firmness. "The…thing that hurt me," - she still could not bring herself to call it rape - "was evil, and Kirsten killed it. I know that I have to move past what happened. I'll do whatever it takes to become strong enough to return to Midgard," her voice died away, "and to fulfill my duties here."

Ciaran kissed the crown of Adele's head "You are The Rose—your spirit is pure—that is why you can channel as no other can. It is why you sacrificed yourself for your friends and family the way you did. Your kin and I will always support you, as will the man who awaits your return to Midgard. I will return as soon as I am able."

The air shimmered as Ciaran vanished through a portal. Adele gazed at the place where he had stood, contrite and fearful that he might never return. Ciaran was a warrior, but he was a healer first, and a healer's mercy had no place in combat. Even the strongest, the bravest, and the most skillful warriors could fall. The thought had barely crossed her mind before another followed. If they survived the battles ahead, Ciaran would be a part of her life. She prayed silently to the Aesir that he would survive.

Niall touched her shoulder gently.

"Child, I am glad to see that you are improving." He had watched her healing with great relief.

"How is my family?" She hesitated, "and King Stanislaus?"

"They are well. They miss you and await your return. Adele, although your core is weakened, there _is _a way to regain your former strength--indeed to become more powerful than any Fae of this age, but only you can make this choice. I will not force it upon you. I am content that you wed the Lord Ciaran and remain safely in Alfheim."

She listened with bewilderment. "But, if I can't heal, I can never leave Alfheim and I won't be strong enough to fight."

"You would be protected and mated to a great lord. You would bear children to bind our clans."

Her mind registered the significance of his words. "But I would be useless otherwise. I can't channel to defend my kin and I would never be able to return to Midgård--to my family and to Stan."

"Your pledged loved you enough to give you up for the sake of your life."

Adele smiled and sent up a prayer of gratitude. This was the unerring mark of Stan's great love for her.

"I love you and I love Alfheim. Living without the wards is wonderful, but I love my family and Stanislaus too much to give them up."

Niall's green eyes flashed with a gentle but firm warning. "There is a path that can lead you back to them, but the choice before you is both sweet and bitter. It will bind you to three worlds; the world of time in Midgard, the world of the Álfar where time runs differently, and Asgard, the world beyond time. It will transform you and affect the Great Web of Wyrd itself."

She spoke with quiet firmness. "And I will become whole again. I'll be able to use my gifts to defend the people I love."

Niall regarded Adele with a warm mixture of compassion and wonder. "Then, Dear One, there is a Great One from the realm of Asgard you must speak with. I leave you now, but will return when you have spoken with Him…and completed the oaths and bindings."

In a flash of light, he was gone and the Lord of the Aesir stood in his place.

Adele's breath caught and her heart pounded as wave after wave of a new and immense magic rolled over her.

The masculine scents of juniper and ozone surrounded her. Two great ravens cried harshly and swept above her upon blue-black wings as Adele prostrated herself before the All-Father.

Though she knew he often appeared as an old, bearded man with one eye, and a slouched hat, the God stood before her now as a warrior, tall and straight as a towering spruce, handsome, with a beautifully proportioned body, wavy shoulder-length saffron hair, and a short beard.

His movements were, full of grace and virility. His hands were long fingered and strong, with a warrior's calluses. This was his true form, the way he appeared before he had sacrificed his eye for wisdom. Warmth surged through Adele as he reached out, caught her hand, and drew her to her feet. As their magics crossed, a shiver rippled through her and her knees weakened.

He laughed and spoke to her in Old Norse. "Even weakened, you are a strong one. Alfheim has never seen the likes of you."

He swept her up into his powerful arms, his storm-grey eyes intense and oddly tender. She cast her eyes downward unable to meet the god's gaze.

"Do you know who I am little one?"

Adele trembled in the god's arms; her skin tingled where he touched her. She drew a deep breath and forbade herself to tremble as she whispered his power-filled names.

"You are the All-Father. You are Battle Fury. The Enemy of the Wolf. The Father of Runes, Magic, Wit, and Wisdom. You are the Journey Empowerer--Odin--Lord of the Aesir, and you have come to make me whole."

The warmth of his smile echoed in his voice.

"Even so, Beloved. But you must pledge yourself to me. I will draw out your unseen talents and open every barrier you have built. It will not be easy but your wyrd is mighty. My magics will give you the strength to brave the darkest regions, to defend what is right and true, and to glimpse the future. "

He gently tilted her chin until his compelling eyes held hers. His voice was gentle, soothing.

"Once you are mine, your body and magics must change to contain the powers I will give you. You will be a great warrior in the battles to come and a bond that will link the worlds in the aftermath of battle. There is no going back once this bridge is crossed. Adele, are you willing to accept this? Your oath will bind you to me and to the causes of the Aesir while the nine worlds exist."

She answered will all of the resolve and conviction of her indomitable spirit, "I will gladly take the oath, my Lord if it will give me the power to fight and return to Midgard."

His eyes darkened and he studied her intently, "Should we survive the storm that is upon us, I will allow you to return and wed your pledged in Midgard upon one condition--he must be willing to change for your sake. Despite your vampire bloodline, you are a creature of light and air. I will not permit this marriage unless your pledged will commit to change and bear the burden of life in Midgard with you night and day. Should he accept, you choice and his will change the wyrd of the vampires. A new, more powerful race will be created. You will face many enemies and challenges."

Adele's eyes shone. Stan would never forsake her and he had already acknowledged the possibility that her blood might affect him in unusual ways.

"All I ask is the chance to return."

"Then it is time…"

Adele felt a tingling in the pit of her stomach. Her heart jolted and her pulse pounded as the forest glade was replaced by brilliant light and rushing wind.

They stood upon the high, rugged cliff of a windy island. Below them rock pools filled with anemones and forests of multi-colored seaweed sparkled in the sunlight. Thousands of white seabirds soared up from the cliff in a scintillating veil of wings. Offshore, gannets folded their wings and plummeted to spear their meals under the bottle-green waters. Odin carried her across the cliff top where the amethyst petals and yellow eyes of Scottish Primroses were scattered like jewels in the closely cropped grass, to an ancient standing stone with a nearly perfect circle piercing its center.

He slid her down and held her against him as his arms encircled her. She was enthralled by his magnetism, and relaxed into his embrace. Adele could feel the heat from his body and the energy and power of his unique scent. His gaze traveled over her.

"Place your hand palm up within the circle of rock Beloved, and I will stand upon the other side of the stone and cover it with mine."

The ancient stone throbbed with power as Odin's deep voice announced, "This is the Odin Stone, sacred to the Aesir and guarded by the spirits of long past generations. So sacred is this ceremony that not even I may betray my sworn oath without becoming utgard and infamous."

"Be thou dedicated to me as I dedicate myself to thee. As I sacrificed myself upon a tree for the greater good, so must thou pledge to be true to me and seek always the well-being of the nine worlds. By this promise I bind myself to thee for all time."

Adele stared fixedly at their joined hands knowing that her sworn oath would carry her to a realm far beyond childish affections. She would return to her pledged a different woman.

"Thou art my Lord for all time unto the breaking of the worlds. I pledge my life to thee. As thou sacrificed thyself upon The Great Ash to gain the knowledge of the Sacred Runes, so I pledge to seek always the well-being of the nine worlds by the strength of my spirit and the power of my magic."

Suddenly Odin was beside her. His hands slipped up her arms bringing her closer. His touch, firm and persuasive, invited more. His breath was warm and moist against her face and her heart raced as he whispered, "You are known as The Rose. Soon all shall call you Vára--the Renewing Spring--for through you, the forces of darkness shall be defeated."

He slid her tunic off of her shoulders and down her arms, groaning as her pink nipples brushed against his hard chest.

Powerful hands enclosed her slender waist. His mouth moved over hers devouring its softness. As his power flowed into her and sang through her veins to the core of her being, the horror, and trauma of her attack vanished and she surrendered completely to the god who claimed her. The air around her flashed with webs of lightning. Thunder boomed. Their physical bodies dissolved, and they assumed their true, radiant forms as their magics intertwined. Explosive currents rushed through her, every sensation magnified. She cried out for release as waves of ecstasy throbbed through her.

Afterwards, they lay in each others arms, her soft curves molding to him, in a world of misty light. Contentment and peace flowed between them.

She flicked her fingers and sent a stream of golden sparks into the air. Odin blew on them gently, and a shower of rose petals fluttered down upon her. Her body crackled with energy as it assimilated her new magic.

Adele stroked Odin's cheek. "You've given me more than physical healing and magical powers. I'm happy here with you."

She trailed tickling fingers across his chest and wondered why she didn't feel guilty. She loved Stan. In the best of all possible worlds, he should have been the first and only man in her life. Instead of contrition, she found herself wondering how she had compared to Odin's other conquests.

Odin gave her a sidelong glance and grinned at her mischievously. "You may bask in the knowledge of your power over me. You are superb. Incomparable."

Her green eyes sparkled. "And you are a master of persuasion."

His hand slipped up her thigh, along the curve of her waist, and cupped her breast. "But I have given you a gift to ease your wyrd, Beloved. When you enter the realm of each mate, you will always be able to focus all of your love and desire upon him."

They lay for awhile in silence. Adele snuggled against him. After some time had passed, Odin turned upon his side, raised himself up on one elbow, and faced her.

"Now, let's see what you can do with your new abilities. What am I thinking?"

Adele snorted. "I don't have to read your mind to know that, _my lord_. You're teasing me!"

To probe the mind of a god, even one who was your mate, was a dangerous thing.

"I'm testing your new powers. Go ahead, try!"

The beginning of a smile tipped the corners of her mouth.

"OK. If you insist."

She reached out tentatively, and then relaxed. Odin had left a only a tiny alcove of his vast mind open. The rest was thoroughly locked away. Tapping into the measureless mind of the god who had hung himself upon the Great Ash to gain the knowledge and power of the Runes would have driven her to madness.

"You're thinking about Wyrd and how my family's wyrd is bound to the Aesir's. You're thinking that all of the magical bindings in our family are of interest to the enemy: my parents' blood bond, the bond that was passed to us when the lady Freya helped create us, even my telepathic bond to my sister. You believe that my family was singled out because our bonds are linked to bonds the Jotten wants to break."

Adele's face fell and her eyes grew hard as Odin shared images of what her family had endured and might endure. Odin regarded her gravely, all playfulness gone from his voice.

"You will need to be very strong for what you must do next. The fate of the three realms and you mother's life depend upon your successful execution of this task. This must be our secret for the time being. I have shared only a small part of my essence with you, but it is enough to make you stronger than any being in Midgard or Alfheim. Beloved, I have given you some of my strength and magic and have replenished your own, but this must be your decision. Do you accept this task?

She met his eyes. "I will. But can we stop the Jotten from being released? Can we stop the terrible changes happening in Midgård and the attacks upon Alfheim?"

Odin shrugged his mighty shoulders. "There's no way to hold back change...there's only a choice between a way of living that allows slow, steady adjustments and a way of living that combines great control and cataclysmic upheavals. There is a choice between the way towards light and the way towards darkness-- between worlds we can work to improve and the destruction of Ragnarok and the iron rule of the Bound One."

Adele lifted her chin, switched to modern English, and announced in her sweet Southern drawl. "It sure looks like we've been thrown both ends of the rope. But I reckon we can whip their asses yet. Let's lock and load!"

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Whooeee! If this was an _American Girl_ book, this would be the "changes for Adele" edition.

Y'all are the sharpest readers in the fanfics! **Please give me the magic of your review** *eye flirt*

_**Now, sharp readers, here's a challenge for you. The wonderful Meads**__** and **__**VampLover1**__** are running a competition for first time writers:**_

http://www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/community/Poppin_Erics_Cherry_One-Shot_Contest/75492/99/0/1/

_**I'll beta the first two "virgin" ff writers who **__**PM me with a story for Poppin Erics Cherry**_

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	12. Chapter 13

_**Chapter 13: Rocks & Water**_

_**A/N: **__Happy New Year! I hope that 2010 is a year of peace, good health, and prosperity for all of us. I hope y'all will check out the winners of the Poppin Eric's Cherry Contest. I'm really impressed with the 4 winners' stories. . Also check out the Naughty or Nice Competition. My Northman story "Luck" is entered in that one. Seiðr is a Northern magic sacred to Freya and Odin involving trance work, shape shifting, world-crossing, and oracle._ _ "Hlakka," __"to cry, to scream as an eagle; to rejoice,"__ is the name of the sword the Aesir gave Sookie in Understanding. Thanks for reading! _ _**The link to the song "Rocks and Water" is on my profile page. Ya gotta hear this song--fantastic!**_

**Attn: SVM readers and writers! SVM Teaser Mondays is still going strong! Get a sneak peak at what is coming up on your favorite fics! Any SVM writer can post a teaser! Subscribe to the thread here (remove spaces): http: // forum. fan fiction. net/ topic/ 55534/19191439/1/**

_CH's characters are hers and hers alone. My characters and the concept of Daughters of the Blood are mine and mine alone._

_**Hugs and thanks to me darlins' FDM and AmaZen who beta and improve my fics and make me a far far better writer than I could ever be without their help and inspiration.**_

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_**Seven times I went down  
six times I walked back.  
And I don't fear the dark anymore  
'cause I'm become all that.**_

_**I will be rocks, I will be water.  
I will leave this to my daughter:  
lift your head up in the wind.  
When you feel yourself grow colder  
wrap the night around your shoulders  
and I will be with you even then  
even when I cannot see your face anymore.**_

_**Don't forget the time  
I wooed him with red wine.  
The devil he wore such a fine, fine shirt  
and it stayed so clean while he dragged me through the dirt.  
Now, honey, don't trust anyone who looks you in the eye  
don't take any kindness, it's a demand in disguise.**_

_**I have seen such things child  
on this, and the other side.  
Words cannot show you  
the midnight owl it does not know you.  
You will see for your sweet self  
by and by.**_

_**And I will be rocks, I will be water  
I will leave this to my daughter.**_

"_**Rocks and Water" by Deb Talan**_

_******************_

Happy and contented after a night filled with sex and sweet dreams, Jason Stackhouse woke to a chorus of bird song. An early morning breeze layered with the scents of pine, wildflowers, and a distant herd of deer played across his skin. He reached out for Mary Lou Campbell, with an aching tenderness. To reach this secluded spot in Kistachie's high country, they had hiked for hours and crossed several bubbling streams so that they could gaze over this sloping green canopy toward the still Kisatchie Bayou that flowed into the Old River far below. Still a cowgirl at heart, Mary Lou loved this alien western landscape of towering longleaf pines , golden buttes and mesas hidden in the heart of the dripping green Bayou State. He reached into his back pack, found the ring where he'd hidden it in a small side pocket, and slipped it into his pocket. This morning he'd tell her how much he loved and cherished her and ask her to become his wife.

Clothed only in lemon threads of sunlight, her skin had the lustrous, wholesome color of a girl who spent a lot of time outdoors. She murmured in her sleep, her full lips curving in a half smile. Gentle as a moth's foot, his fingers traced the velvet soft curves of her full breasts and tiny waist, then dipped to brush the auburn curls between her thighs. Mary Lou was the best thing that had happened to him since his daughter Zeline's birth eighteen years ago. Mary Lou was fresh and tender as a Georgia peach with a sunny nature and a playfulness that made him feel young again.

Eighteen years ago, when Sookie, had explained the youthfulness and longevity that were part of their Fae heritage, Jason had been overjoyed. But as time went on and everyone he knew that wasn't a vamp or a Fae moved from youth to middle age, grew old and died, he began to understand the caveat written into his unique genome. He'd have to move from Bon Temps in a few years. He'd hinted that he'd visited a cosmetic surgeon in Shreveport for "a little fine tuning," but by the time he neared sixty, not even multiple visits to the best plastic surgeon would explain why he looked and felt like a thirty year old.

His great grandfather, Niall Brigant, had made it very clear that he had no right to reveal his heritage--that any talk of it outside of the supernatural family would earn him an "unfortunate accident." But Mary Lou was different. Like Zeline's mother Marie, she was a pure blooded shifter. Shit! He'd never even told Marie Paquette. Marie had been a cheating whore, but she'd given him Zeline. Zeline, his beautiful girl. His heart ached with tenderness and pride when he thought of her. Soon she'd be off to college--with a presidential merit scholarship that pretty much paid her way.

She wouldn't be beholden to the Northmans or to Niall for tuition. Zeline was worth the cost of Marie's cheating and bitchery. He hadn't been the best of dads, but he'd tried his hardest, and Zeline knew that he loved her unreservedly and totally. Marie loved everyone except for her own sweet self by fits and starts--always had. That was the best Zeline could ever expect from her mother. Maybe he would have been a better father if he hadn't always known that Sookie, even Eric, had his back. They'd always looked after Zeline. They were the ones who understood and cared for her almost as much as he did.

Mary Lou made a little noise, stretched languorously, and smiled at him sleepily. The sweet lines of her young body made him hard as a brass rod.

Bending his head, he touched each rosy nipple with his tongue. They pebbled as if by magic as he whispered, "Good morning beautiful…"

Mary Lou gasped, then pretended to pout even as she opened her thighs, "Don't I even get breakfast in bed first?"

Jason nibbled the edges of her neck and ears as his hand slid up her thigh, "That's what I'm serving' up right now sugar."

As he rolled on top of her, they both suddenly froze. Hairs rose on the back of his neck. The clock chorus of birdsong stilled to silence. Beneath him Mary Lou's eyes widened and her nostrils flared as she caught an unknown cloying scent.

Jason knew that scent, Niall had made him learn it, scenting bloodied garments until it was burned into his mind. For a progeny of the Brigants it was the scent of death.

Jason unsheathed his big hunting knife, and whispered, "Shift now and run like hell, baby!"

Seconds after a red fox squirmed under the tarp and darted into the trees, a cold aristocratic British voice commanded.

"Come out of the tent you rutting bastard. There's no sport in killing you bare assed and dripping with cunt juice."

It was the dark of the moon. No bitten panther could shift until the moon was full. Jason pulled on his jeans and grabbed his knife. He said a prayer that Mary Lou was safe and would survive. If he was going to die, he'd go down fighting. He stepped out of the tent into a tight circle of dark elves and the cold, implacable gaze of the Fae lord Sewell Ulswater.

Ulswater coughed delicately and waved his hand in front of his pale, elegant face.

"The stench of shifter and human sullying the perfume of my race is an abomination. One thing that I _hav_e gleaned from humans is the value of genocide. How did one of your lot put it?" His mouth spread into a thin lipped smile filled with sharpened teeth. "'The Final Solution…' wasn't that it?"

His black eyes gleamed as they swept appreciatively down Jason's body--sleek with muscle and elegant in its strength.

"Still, that drop of Fae blood in your mongrel veins gave you that magnificent physique. For that drop, I'll give you half an hour to run before we hunt you."

For a long moment Jason held Ulswater's gaze, as tall, still and as finely made as a Greek statue.

He thought of Sookie and Zeline.

_God... gods…Whoever's up there. Take care of them for me. Let me take some of these bastards with me…let me go down fighting not like some hunted thing… give me a way to let my Zee know how much I love her…then I'll go freely._

A song from his teen years came to him …_You can waste you time on the other rides, this is the nearest to bein' alive…let me take my chances on the wall of death…_

He smiled, gripped his hunting knife, and assumed a fighting stance. When he spoke his voice was firm.

"No. I don't reckon I'll do that. You aim to kill me one way or the other and I aim to take a few of you with me. I'll take my chances here."

Ulswater nodded, "Well, there is some courage in you as well as beauty. Very well...:

He swept his hand in a circular motion and Jason was encircled by a luminous ring that shone through the pine needles and dirt. Eight identical hunting knives gleamed coldly on its circumference. Ulswater nodded to his minions.

"You'll take him one at a time with one of these. Fight well. Kill him or be killed."

A Dark Elf with glowing amber eyes and ritual scars entered the ring. They circled each other looking for an opening. In a quicksilver motion, the dark elf scooped up dirt and threw it Jason's eyes, then launched himself, knife poised. Jason blocked high, twisted and slashed the elf's neck. Crimson arterial blood sprayed across the circle.

The first body was already turning to dust when his second opponent entered the ring. Her knife flashed in the sunlight as she, tensed and sprang. Jason twisted, blocked her strike and used the force of his body to slam her to the ground. Her knife flew out of the ring as her wrist broke with a satisfying crunch. They rolled on the ground making no sound other than, the sibilant hiss of their breath. Suddenly, Jason cursed as the female bit his shoulder viciously. His blade drove upward just under her breastbone, but Jason rose to his feet more slowly this time. His side burned and bled from a shallow slice and his shoulder throbbed. Even though his chest gleamed with the dead female's blood, he knew that it was just a matter of time before they wore him down.

Jason smiled grimly, met the eyes of his opponents and beckoned with his hand as a Fae male with red rimmed pupils circled him cautiously.

Deep in the woods a fox yelped, howled, and was silent.

* * *

_She struggles up the overgrown forest path. Branches tear at her clothing and scratch her face. _

"_Sookie!"_

_She stops and looks around straining her eyes uphill towards a treeless, windblown outcrop. Jason is somewhere above her hidden by a dense thicket and the towering trunks of longleaf pines. Looming beyond the pines, a broad sandstone mesa casts a dark shadow over the high ground._

"_Oh God, Jason! I'm coming! " _

_She stumbles over tree roots and gags as an acrid, oily stench catches at the back of her throat and burns her eyes._

_Heart pounding, she forces her way through a thicket. A wave of hot air hits her as she and bursts into a clearing. The magnificent vista is hidden by a thin veil of smoke. The ground is blackened and radiates the heat of recent fire. She knows this spot! She steadies her breathing and clenches her hands until her nails dig into her palms. She was here before. This is real. _

_Eighteen years ago, just above, she had fought Sewell Ulswater's dark elves and Fae. Eighteen years ago, she had channeled here for the first time. She'd drawn power from the earth until it rolled through nerves, tendons, and bones, up her spine, finally erupting from her hands turning her enemies to blackened husks and ash. On a rise not far from here, her great grandfather had sent Sewell Ulswater and his remaining allies into the void of Ginnungagap. _

_Before that battle, she had fought , suffered and endured, but nothing had matched the absolute malice of Sewell Ulswater and the greater power that she now knew controlled him. She had fought then to save her unborn children, Eric, her kin and their allies._

_Her arms prickle with gooseflesh and the hair on the nape of her neck rises as a massive magical register rolls across her mind and body. A lady riding a black horse emerges from the trees ahead. Thick ash-blond hair falls in long graceful curves over her shoulder. A shadowy figure clings to her back. In profile her patrician features are beautiful; her youthful face well molded and feminine. _

_She turns the horse, whose eyes sockets pulse with blue flame and Sookie trembles as the other half of the Lady's profile is revealed. __In a mockery of symmetry, a white cobweb replaces the lustrous hair; a crone's rheumy sightless eye is paired with a girl's clear, azure; __lustrous cheek and lips turn grey, luminous skin becomes a pattern of numberless branching wrinkles, ruined yellow stumps replace strong white teeth. _

_Sookie sinks to the ground before the goddess Hella, beauty and crone, queen of the lowest world, collector of souls._

_Hella regards her with a gentle look that somehow softens her grotesque appearance. "Rise child. Your sibling has passed into another realm. He died bravely taking many of his enemy with him He died as a warrior. He will be rewarded in his next life."_

_Hella shifts slightly and Sookie wills herself to look at the vision of Jason's death._

_The color drains from her face as spots dance before her eyes. She wills herself to look so that she will never forget. Small flames still lick at a blackened body, still bound to a smoking stake.. _

_ Hella explains, " They were ambushed by your enemies just after dawn. Your brother tried to help his woman escape. He fought well but could not save her. You killed the Fae Lord's lover--incinerated her. To avenge this, he __bound you brother to a__ stake__**. **__They __watched and laughed as he burned."_

_Sookie struggles to her feet, walks to the blacked mass, kneels down and touches what is left of Jason Stackhouse. Her tears magnify and distort the horror into a hazy blur._

_Without looking up, she whispers through stiff lips, "What can I do?" _

_The goddess regards her with compassion devoid of pity. "Defend your family and fight against the Evil One who did this and plans greater destruction. Your brother's child is his link to the future, as are your children. Protect them as you may. You are a channeler. Channel your sorrow into battle fury. Turn your keening into a_ _hlakka."_

* * *

The last rays of the setting sun stained the western sky orange and amethyst when Eric woke in the darkened room, hands clenched in the sheets. He had dreamed of battle_, _the gagging odor of burning bodies, of blood and death. In his dream, a woman screamed, "Jason!" He came fully awake as Sookie sat bolt upright and repeated her brother's name in a low, tormented voice. She fell back against the pillow, her temples pale and damp; her light, summer nightgown sweaty and clinging. Eric reached out across the bond. For a moment she tried to block him, before the waves of anger, and emptiness rolled over him.

An icy lump formed in his stomach. Dr. Ludwig had examined Sookie today at home. He had forbade her to leave the house without him, and for once she had listened. She laid her hand on his fingers and squeezed.

"Gods, min älskare. Your fingers are cold as snow." Eric's glacial blue eyes were clouded with worry. "The baby…" he whispered.

She half-sobbed and buried her face against his chest. "No…th-the baby is fine… there's only one register…and it's strong. It's Jason. I had a vision…what y'all call Sedir magic, I guess. I was running up a trail in the Kistachie Wilderness…a…a being showed me Jason's body, a goddess I think…half of her face was beautiful and the other…" Sookie shuddered. "Oh God, Eric, I…I think he's…that Jason's been," She fought to say the word, then whispered, "murdered…by Ulswater."

She pressed her hands over her face. "I'm going to be sick" she muttered. Without a word, Eric lifted her into his arms, carried her to the bathroom, and held her head. When she was through and had rinsed her mouth, he wiped her face and mouth gently with a damp washcloth. It had been forty-nine days since her last moon blood. She had been quite sick with the girls, but this sickness born of raw grief stretched across their bond and became a sick and fiery gnawing in his own gut.

A glazed look of despair spread over her face as she took his hands and gave him the vision. There was no question that the goddess Hella had "favored" them with the grim news. Powerful Sedir magic had summoned his wife and he had not been able to shield her.

Eric held Sookie against him, one large hand stroking her hair. He murmured soothing words in Old Norse until the pulse beat hammering in her throat slowed. She clung to Eric, the sheltering silence of their house around them. In the midst of her grief she suddenly longed to make love to her husband--to feel his strength around and within her, wiping out this nightmare of helplessness with the certainty of mutual possession. He held her face between his hands and kissed her, and for an instant, terror for her children and for Zeline and her shattering grief for Jason fell away.

Then, he drew back and she could see her own pain etched upon his face.

"For the sake of the children, _all _of our children, we must be strong. I swear to you that Jason will be avenged."

The loss was so new, so raw, and yet, Eric was right. She had no time to grieve now--not with Kirsten and Zeline about to battle a powerful enemy and Adele lost to them until she recovered. Sookie's stomach turned over at the thought of losing them. As powerful, well-trained, and supernaturally favored as Kirsten was, she would fight The Wraith, an ancient, immortal assassin who, it was said, could fade into shadow and become invisible. As if their thoughts flowed together, she lifted her chin so that she met Eric's eyes.

"After my grandmother was killed, everyone, even Jason, kept telling me how strong I was and how proud they were of me. I honestly wanted to smack them all. I wanted to say, 'Are you kidding me? Don't you see that life as I've always known it is over? My best friend is gone! DEAD! I AM NOT OK!'"

Her eyes shone with tears. "Of course I just put my brave face on and smiled at them, thanking them for their sympathies when all I wanted through all of that was to be able to call my Gran and talk to her ...but I couldn't. She's gone-- the only person I'd always turned to when things went bad. Since all of that happened, and Jason wasn't able, I've had no choice but to be the responsible adult. Now Jason's gone and I couldn't save him…"

She inhaled shakily and wiped her nose. "He was a horndog, stubborn too, and dumb as a box of hair sometimes. But he was my blood…all that I had left of our family …and we love…loved…each other. I always thought that even when we were older we'd still have each other."

She put her hand on Eric's cheek allowing her love for him to flow across the bond. "You and the children are my world …it's just that Jason was supposed to be there in the end. I feel like half of me died with him..."

Eric drew his hand gently down her cheek, and cupped her face between his hands, love glowing strong in his impossibly blue eyes.

"Your love for your brother and his love for you is alive. He lives on in you and in Zeline. She is a precious reminder of Jason and his gift to the worlds. She is our daughter now. Put your arms around her and give her all that Jason would and all that you would give Jason. It's what he would have wanted."

* * *

Eric's cell rang. He picked it up and listened, his face becoming grimmer by the minute. He grunted, "We'll be here," snapped the phone shut, and pulled Sookie close to his side.

"Niall is coming now, dear heart."

Niall's beautiful face was grey, his eyes darkened with pain. His sigh cut the charged silence in the cheerful room filled with family photos and mementoes of eighteen happy years.

"We found Jason and his woman this afternoon. She had shifted and might have escaped, but Ulswater sent expert trackers after her. She was miles away when they found her. She'd shifted back to human form when she died. They made it look like a cougar or a panther mauled her."

Niall embraced Sookie gently. "Jason fought long and well. The dust of his enemies was scattered about him. But he was outnumbered…. When he was mortally wounded, they tied him to a stake and burnt his body before he had actually…" Niall stopped. " I'm sorry my own, I have said more than I intended."

Sookie shuddered and met his gaze, "I know…I 'saw.' I was…was summoned…" She gripped her great-grandfather's hand.

"Zeline! I want to tell her myself…later." Oh God. If there was a "later."

Niall smiled sadly. "I have seen Zeline and Kirsten. They are deep in Sedir trances preparing for their ordeal. Who knows what the gods will choose to reveal to them?"

Sookie froze, mind and body benumbed. Adele was separated from them--her heart warned her perhaps for many years. Kirsten would fight a powerful, ancient assassin dedicated to their enemy tonight. Kirsten had her father's strength now and had fought and had been trained all of her life to fight.

She was a warrior, a shield maiden, and a gythja of the goddess Freya, queen of the Valkyries. Though she had a mere eighteen human years against The Wraith's centuries of combat, she knew the slipperiest tactics gathered by her wily warrior father over a millennium. Would it be enough?

Eric caught Niall's eye. He suppressed his anger at the assassins and at Jason for wandering off without warning even as he suppressed his fear for Kirsten. Now he needed to focus all of his energies upon his pregnant mate. Sookie was at her breaking point and the ordeals of this night had only begun. He glared at Niall.

"Sookie has heard enough for now. She hasn't eaten and has barely slept. She needs food and rest before tonight's blόt."

Niall stared at him with eyes masked in pain, then nodded. Turning to Sookie he spoke tenderly.

"Jason has passed into the Summerland, but you must cope with this burden, dear one. What can I give you that will ease your pain?"

Sookie stared at him incredulously. Tears blinded her eyes and choked her voice.

" You _can't _give me back what I've lost. You never loved him. You can't feel what I feel--the good memories or the anger or the pain. God knows we aren't a 'normal' family, but I want _OUR NORMAL _ back, which I know will never happen."

Niall regarded Sookie with tenderness and compassion. " It's true. I can't feel what you feel for Jason. But I love you and I love the young ones that both of you have given to me. I have lost many dear ones in my lifetime."

His gaze shifted to Eric. "No being can exist without experiencing such pain. Do not condemn yourselves for all that has happened and all that is to come. It would be wonderful if we could promise our children life without pain. We cannot. But we can grieve together. Adele, Kirsten, and Zeline have been raised with your love and strong guidance. They understand, more than most young ones, that ugly and unfair things happen--and that we can survive them together."

Niall kissed Sookie's forehead and stepped back.

" I must go now. I must supervise…the aftermath so that the humans have feasible explanations. " He hesitated." It is not our way, but I will return Jason's ashes to you…when you are ready to receive them."

Sookie nodded and squeezed his hand. "I'll be ready soon…and that is something you can give me along with your love. And, there's something I want to give you…for Kirsten to use tonight since I can't fight with her."

She crossed the room, pressed a code into a keypad on a cabinet, and removed a sheathed sword and Niall received it reverently sensing the powerful magics woven into it.

"This is _Hlakka_ the sword Freya gave me before we fought Ulswater's forces eighteen years ago in the Kistachie Hills. The Lady in my vision told me to turn my grieving into a hlakka."

She smiled grimly. "I think this is the first step."

* * *

**Thanks for reading!** **Please review--your reviews keep me writing. Seriously, it only takes a moment, and your review lets me know that this story is worth your time…and mine."**

***hugs***

**Maire**


	13. Chapter 14

_**Chapter 14 DSR**_

_** Black Moon **_

**_A blόt (pronounced "bloat") is a sacrifice to claim personal power, to open the participants to wisdom, and draw closer to the gods. It creates a connection forged in spirit and blood. In Viking times, the blood of the sacrifices was considered especially powerful. Modern Heathens still offer gifts to their gods in a blόt. _**

**_The essence of the process is exchange--our attention and energy, symbolized by the offerings, for the help and blessings of the god. The bowl where the sacrificial blood or drink is first poured and consecrated is a hlautbowl. Kirsten claims "fullrettirsorð__," full penalty, against Bothvild__;as Adele's blood kin, Kirsten can kill the offender with impunity._**

**_I've manipulated the sacrifice to make Bothvild the object of exchange. Freya is leader of the Valkyries and goddess of love and fertility. Her opposite, in many ways, is Hella, queen of the realm of the dead. Hel is the lowest of the Nine Worlds. It is not at all a bad place; parts of it are an afterlife paradise while other parts are seen as dark and gloomy. Unlike the Christian purgatory, it is not entirely an abode of punishment. Gjøll means "scream." Dark moon magic is Sei_****ð_r magic. The link to the song is on my profile._**

**_I edited this chapter solo--so all mistakes are entirely my fault._**

As always, CH's characters are hers and hers alone; my characters and the concept of Daughters of the Blood I are mine and mine alone.

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* * *

_

**Cold, this misty night  
A black moon's preparing my mind  
Out here, I seek her shrine  
I welcome the queen of the lowest world  
Hail! Into the ice hall  
Where mirrors reflect my soul  
She's freezing my tears  
Taking all fears…**

**…Hail, Invisible mate  
Waiting to seal our fate  
Hel, watch my strife  
Hel, guard my life  
**

**By Hagalaz Runedance**

* * *

Within the protected circle of the sacred grove, Kirsten knelt naked upon a seiðr platform deeply submerged in the trance state necessary to shift her body across the proto-fabric between Midgard and the eight worlds that surround it. Zeline knelt upon a similar platform close by preparing for her own journey. Rhythmic drumming and chanting launched them into a strong current of dark moon magic. Both young women focused. Their first test was to open portals that stretched between the worlds. Suddenly, Zeline gasped. Her body became like grains of sand pulled into a swift current. Magic flowed inside of and about her as she passed through the portal.

As the shimmering mist lifted, she prayed that a deity would find her worthy to become gythja. The mist lifted and she felt lichen covered rock beneath her feet. She stood before a fast-moving, clear river which flowed over old lava beds. Speckled trout congregated about rocks in the shallows. Farther out, a salmon's scales flashed silver as it leapt in a bold arc above the rapids. She smiled, recalling the last time she had fished with her father. Jason had caught a huge speckled trout and had been as happy as a five year old on his birthday.

_God! Dad would love this place!_

"He will indeed …. That is why I have brought you here dear one, for your trials have made you my own."

Zeline turned toward the sweet calm voice, and gazed into the compassionate, dove-grey eyes of the goddess Hlin. The Lady of Consolation embraced Zeline whispered to her gently, and kissed away her tears as she sobbed in Hlin's arms.

* * *

Kirsten focused upon the shimmering portal and pictured Freya in her Falcon Cloak, the enchanted jewels of Brisingamen radiant about her neck and prayed:

_Beloved of the Fae, Queen of the Valkyries,  
Who taught the gods foreseeing,  
And fly falcon-formed,  
You who, after the smoke of battle ascends,  
Receive half the slain into Folkvang--your great hall,  
__Give me the gold of your blessing.__  
_

Kirsten's skin rippled as waves of magic surged up her spine. She passed through the shimmering portal and became a particle in the racing current of Seiðr magic. Pearly mist gave way to shining amethyst, sparking emerald, and fiery reds. As she approached the rainbow bridge, Asgard's guardian stepped aside and motioned Kirsten towards the golden walls and towers of Folkvang, Freya's beautiful palace--home of slain heroes and heroines.

The timber beams and ceilings were carved with Freya's emblems: leaping stags, fierce boars, stalking cats, and a profusion of flowers, vines, and trees. Rich tapestries displaying Freya riding into battle at the head of the Valkyries , luxuriating upon a bed of spring flowers, and in her many other guises graced the walls. Kirsten's feet sunk into soft rugs and furs as she made her way through vast chambers and mead halls where heroes feasted and called out lustily for her to join their celebrations. Finally, she entered a private garden perfumed by apple blossoms, magenta and lavender corn flowers, sunny meadow butters cups, and a riot of purple, cream, golden, and carmine blossoms.

Freya's magnificent, naked body was just visible beneath her gown of gossamer linen. She knelt upon her Seiðr platform five feet above the flower strewn grass, her golden hair cascading to her hips and her exquisite face radiant with unearthly beauty and power.

Kirsten knelt before the intricately carved posts that supported Freya's cushioned platform.

"My Lady…you summoned me…"

Freya regarded Kirsten with satisfaction.

"Well done, you clever girl! Heimdall let you through. You could always charm the birdies right out of the trees. Our connection is strong, my dear. Otherwise you would never have made your way through Folkvang to me. You are a woman now, Kirsten, and will return to Midgård a gythja. Now that you've become a full Daughter you're even prettier; plus you now pack a considerable magical wallop. The so called Wraith will be surprised when you kick her ass into Helheim."

Freya motioned toward a delicately carved ladder and patted the rug beside her. "Now, climb up. That's it. Kneel here next to me. Don't be shy! Tonight's journey has just begun. You need to pay a visit to a very powerful CEO whose corporation's always expanding; the goddess Hella to be exact. The Aesir need her help and so do you."

She briefly considered telling Kirsten about her uncle, then discarded the idea. A novice gythja on her first Seiðr journey to Helheim had enough to contend with. Instead, she smiled warmly and assumed the role of celestial big-sister.

"There are some major power plays that have to be arranged."

Freya rested her long slender fingers on Kirsten's arm. "You're just the girl we need to seal the deal. The vamp bitch you mean to kill in the blόt may be undead, but she's linked to the Aesir through the traitor Loki and her Saxon bloodline. Her employer, you enemy Sewell Ulswater and Loki, her …um…overlord, are our enemies. For warring against the Aesir, The Wraith's life is forfeit. But your sister Adele is dear to Odin as you are dear to me. The Allfather commands retribution for the outrage committed against your sister, and He approves of your blood claim to fullrettirsorð."

Kirsten took a deep breath and asked the million dollar question. "So, what do I have to do to get back to Midgård and kill this bitch …my Lady?"

Freya eyed the tall muscular woman next to her thoughtfully. None of the Aesir, herself included, would lower themselves to beg Hella to back them. Yet, Kirsten was powerful and magical enough to survive the mission she must undertake for all of their sakes.

"Your job is to travel into Helheim via the Overhanging Cave, follow Hella's Dark Road to the Screaming Bridge that crosses the River of Blood, and charm the giantess Modgud into letting you through the Corpse Gate. Then, it's only a matter of making friends with Hella's giant hound Garmr and slicing your palm to summon Hella. When she comes to chat with you, which she will because she doesn't get many beautiful, living petitioners, you convince her to support you and the Aesir."

Freya place one delicate finger under Kirsten's jaw, gently shut it, and smiled encouragingly.

"Piece of cake!"

"Get that deer in the headlights look out of your eyes. You must trust me in this dear one. I've had an eternity to figure out Hella's likes and dislikes, and _you, _my dear, are her perfect ten. If you bat your eyes and flash that sweet, sexy smile, you'll convince the Queen of Death to accept this undead bitch as a blόt offering. I'm counting on you. Unless Hella backs the Aesir, Ragnarock's just around the corner."

Freya brushed the air and her magnificent russet, gold and black Falcon Cloak materialized. She wrapped it around a stunned, silent, naked Kirsten and carefully secured the boar's head clasp while murmuring a ward of protection.

"That's better! You're a little more covered, and you won't have to deplete you magical reserves flying. One drawback of Seiðr magic, unless you're a god or a goddess, is that you have to journey in your birthday suit. Your body's hot honey, but I'd like to leave a bit to Hella's imagination. Stay strong and hide your fear or she'll never accept you no matter how much she wants you…and she _will _want you…believe me!"

Kirsten's eyebrows rose in amazement. "Want me …but I'm not...I mean _I like guys_."

Freya giggled and dismissed this foolishness with a wave of her hand.

"Oh Hella, won't be bothered by _that _fact. You just do your bit for gods and family sweetie, and the rest will fall into place…wyrd and all that…" She chuckled. "The Nornir will get a kick out of the new weave in your wyrd. They do love the occassional surprise."

She continued briskly."Now, let's get on with the show! This Seiðr seat is my watching tower. It represents the Great World Tree. Like the eagle that perches in its upper branches, we can see into every corner of the nine realms. As the tree has roots so does the watching tower have pillars; one represents the Outlands, the second stands for the Underworld, the third, the lands of Midgard and Vanaheim, while the fourth stands for the realm of Asgard. Each pillar bears runic verses describing the realms, and each is made of timber taken from that world. Like my Falcon Cloak, the watching tower allows magic to be worked with much less effort."

She glanced at Kirsten affectionately. "Following me so far?'

"Yes, My Lady." Kirsten gasped. She was still trying to absorb the fact that she had to flirt with and, possibly French, The Queen of Death.

"Tonight you'll be learning by doing--that's the best way to learn. I'll lead the way, but you'll go into Hella's realm alone. I'll be on stand-by in the portal by Helheim's entrance. When things start to get hairy…give me a holler. I expect that Hella will be right on your world class tail when I haul you out."

Freya took Kirsten's hand and began to chant until the chamber glistened and became a blur of light.

Folkvang faded away and Midgard was stretched beneath them. Suddenly, they hovered above Kirsten's sacred grove. Zeline was sobbing while Finna stroked her head. Sensing unseen supernatural observers, Finna glanced up sharply and released a shielding ward.

Freya touched Kirsten gently. "Your kinswoman is in good hands. Zeline has to face her visions without you for now. Focus upon your own journey. Let your will, not your desire, steer you"

They shifted and moved rapidly now, a cold wind roaring about them. As though they squeezed through a passageway, the wind ceased and a smothering mist shrouded the stars.

Freya motioned toward the dark maw of a massive cave just visible in the sea of dank gray fog.

"It's time to use the full power of the Falcon Cloak. Make Hella your ally and ours, and Bothvild's as good as dead and punished."

Freya ran her hands over the cloak, murmured a word of power, and Kirsten gasped as her bones and muscles shrunk and became suited for flight.

"Shift now and fly down the Hel Path. When you reach the Corpse Gate, and you return to your true form, you'll find a knife of sky iron attached to your thigh. When you slice your palm, give some of your blood to Garmr, and he'll become as tame as a poodle. We're connected by a cord of powerful magic now. I'll haul you up when you tug on the line…or something like that."

* * *

Transformed to falcon-form within Freya's Falcon Cloak, Kirsten soared down the dark road to Hella's gloomy kingdom. The giantess Modgud took a quick breath then cried out in utter astonishment when an enchanted falcon transformed into a fierce, beautiful, women a few feet in front of the Corpse Gate and spoke to her in a firm, even voice.

"I am Kirsten Ericdóttir, gythja of the Aesir. I have traveled across the worlds and dared the Hel Road to speak to the Lady Hella."

Modgud glowered down at Kirsten and growled, "We shall see..."

She checked Kirsten for wards and booby traps, dismissing the puny ceremonial knife which could harm neither Hella nor her subjects. Having found nothing to prevent Kirsten from crossing the Screaming Bridge, Modgud moved aside grudgingly. The giantess knew what her mistress liked, and knew better than to be the one responsible for keeping this tidbit from Hella's fingers.

The bridge across the Bloody River rang out as if a thousand men walked across. In the ice and shadow of her obsidian hall, Hella's fingers stilled upon the tablet where she carved runes of protection and defense as Kirsten's unique register touched her.

The dead crossed the bridge without a sound; only the living caused the bridge to groan. This daughter of the undead and the living was different. The young woman stood tall, beautiful, and unafraid beside the Corpse Gate and the freezing river Gjøll. Raising her palm, she drew an ancient blade of needle sharp sky iron across her palm and held it out toward the huge red-eyed hound who ceased growling and rested its tremendous head on its massive paws as soon as it licked Kirsten's bloody palm.

The girl was beautiful and unique; she radiated the bright light of the living as well as the dark aura of the undead. Hella reached out to touch and explore this enticing creature. The goddess's power flowed, flowered, and wrapped about the living beauty. As smoke before a breeze, the silent fluttering souls gave way before the goddess. Kirsten sunk into a low curtsy, and the folds of Freya's cloak fell open. Hella's eyes slid hungrily over the swell of her hips, her triangle of golden curls, and her lithe muscular thighs. Kirsten, who had kept her eyes cast down in deference, stole a glance at Hella's face.

"You're beautiful!" She blurted out, then clapped a hand over her mouth when Hella hissed in astonishment.

"I'm sorry!" she stammered. " It's just that everyone says that your appearance is…ah...startling. " Kirsten blushed and hastily added, "My Lady."

Hella's brows drew together as she took in Freya's falcon cloak; she'd deal with Freya later.

"Look at me!"

Hella's indigo eyes bored into Kirsten's. A livid mist formed around Hella. Garmr whimpered and Modgud cringed, but Kirsten regarded her calmly.

Hella's lips quirked with amusement. "Well, you may be blunt, but you are no liar."

Hella turned toward the giantess. "What did you see gate ward?"

The giantess sunk to her knees, "Mercy, My Lady! I saw you in the guise of a maggot infested corpse with flames in your eyes sockets and the stench of the rotting dead about you."

Hella paused watching the play of emotions upon Kirsten's proud face, then smiled.

"Kirsten .Ericdóttir--beloved of the Lady Freya. That I do not appear half shriveled to you is…significant. I know the names of all souls that pass into my hall. You are Selin that was called forth to fulfill your wyrd in a new life. You have braved Hella's Way and have summoned me with dark moon magic. It is a perilous journey. Your request must be of great importance. "

Her eyes drank in Kirsten's lithe, powerful body and fiery aura. "But you were created to withstand such a journey. I would hear your request."

Kirsten spoke with quiet firmness, in the most formal form of Old Norse. The Queen of the Lowest World was not the Lady Freya; now was not the time for playful banter.

"I seek fullrettirsorð against the vampire Bothvild who mortally wounded my sister, Adele, beloved of Lord Odin."

Hella nodded and said mildly. "I know of the vampire Bothvild, known as The Wraith. She is dedicated to my sire, even now in his torment bound to the rock where the serpent drips poison onto his face."

Forcing her fear deep within, Kirsten dared to meet Hella's eyes. "But, my Lady, your sire is not in your favor."

A half-smile played about Hella's lips. "And you, perhaps,may be in my favor. Your beauty as well as your boldness incline me to favor _you_. Continue…"

Freya's warning voice whispered urgently in Kirsten's head.

"_Remember my own, one dumbass mistake and you're cooked--maybe literally." _

"_It's OK!" Kirsten shot back. "I'm a Northman. We're **bad**asses, but we can talk real sweet when we need to. Except, dad enthralls 'the vermin' and I've got to deal with a goddess who just might be reading my mind! Argh! Here goes…"_

"My Lady, you forge blades of power and prophesy. Odin Himself bowed to your wisdom on the Tree of Sacrifice in exchange for your gifts. I humbly seek your favor Lady. With your aid I will destroy the vampire Bothvild -- traitor to the Aesir-- through ritual sacrifice. I will carve runes of dedication into her and butcher her as a ewe is butchered. I will fill our hlautbowl with her blood. With you blessing and favor our enemies will fear us and we will taste victory. The dark moon is the time for understanding our angers and bringing justice to bear. Tonight, in the moon dark of our sacred grove, I would honor you, my Lady, in a hollowing blόt. I am the fledgling that would lead the evil doer to justice. My enemy is old. Her blood will be a fitting sacrifice. I beg that you punish her. And place the evildoer in Wyrmsele, Snake Hall, so that adders will drip their burning poison down upon her writing soul for eternity."

Kirsten aura blazed with a fierce red light that rivaled the flames of Hella's realm. "She will long to drink from the river of blood, but her thirst will be unquenchable for eternity!"

Hella's voice gently mocked, but her eyes were intent upon Kirsten's. "And punishing her as you desire, what will I gain other than another dark soul screaming under the poisoned roof of Wyrmsele?"

Kirsten's glacial blue eyes blazed into Hella's. "I will call you Mother for giving me the strength to journey to your dark places. I will accept the gifts bestowed from your hands; for they are the hands that nestled me in my mother womb."

Kirsten heart pounded in her ears. Time seemed to stop.

Hella gazed at her in thoughtful silence.

Kirsten could feel the tendrils of her wyrd lacing about her as Hella murmured seductively, "What you ask is more than I have done for any being in millennia. What do you offer me in return for so great a favor?"

Kirsten swallowed and whispered the words that gave her the freedom to act and fight her enemy, but also sealed her fate. "I offer myself to you, that I may receive your burning kiss upon my brow and be wrapped in the grace of your shadow; that my blade will be blessed with your power."

Hella's steady gaze bored into Kirsten in silent expectation as she stepped forward and embraced her.

The Queen of the Lowest World's long, slender fingers gently framed Kirsten's face, but her eyes glittered with a raw hunger.

"In all the worlds you are unique. Your wyrd is tied to me. In this age you alone see me as whole and beautiful…and so great is the magic that surrounds your wyrd that in your presence I _am_ whole and beautiful. Your admiration in itself is a great gift to me."

Her brows drew together slightly. "Still, you are Freya's charge and I must work out the terms of our…contract with her."

Kirsten's skin prickled where Hella's fingers trailed gently, across her lips, down the curve of her neck, and gently stroked the graceful wing of her collarbone. "For now, all that I require of you is a kiss to seal our bargain. Do you agree Kirsten Ericdóttir? "

Kirsten felt the tendrils of her wyrd grip her even more tightly as she whispered,

"I do."

Hella sighed as her hands slipped beneath Freya's falcon cloak, and slid along the curves of Kirsten's breasts, waist and hips.

Her lips brushed Kirsten's. "Your skin is so warm, so fine…like sunlit silk. You are mine Kirsten Ericdóttir…whether you will or no…I claim you… "

Kirsten sighed and shuddered as Hella's magic sang through her mind and body.

She was a drowning woman caught in the powerful current of the goddess's desire. Hella's hand moved toward the clasp of the Falcon cloak and then pulled it back with a curse. "A hidden ward!" She muttered. "The giantess will pay dearly for this blunder!"

Clever of Freya, Kirsten thought hazily, to ward the cloak in a way that even the faithful and vigilant Modgud hadn't discovered. Kirsten had known the journey would be dangerous…but she had been sure that her new powers and Freya's protection would make her return inevitable. Now she knew that Hella wanted her, fiercely. Hella's will pressed upon her.

_Take it off, my own! Freya can do nothing but recall her cloak if you take it off of your own will._

Kirsten head ached and pounded as Freya's unusually shrill voice screeched,_ For__ your sake and the sake of all of the Aesir--**don't** touch that cloak!_

Kirsten closed her eyes and tried to focus. If she didn't end this tug-of-war, the goddesses' contending wills would shatter her. Her father had always railed against her "incorrigible defiance." When she had a chance to tell him, she'd make him admit that her "vice" had become her saving grace. She reached deep within herself and summoned the indomitable will to fight and survive that she had inherited from both of her parents.

_Damned, __really damned__, if I'm gonna spend what's left of my flesh and blood life in this dump! Not if there's a way out. _

She thought of Adele as she summoned the battle frenzy. Her fangs descended even as her living heart thundered crazily.

"No! I won't take it off! We've made our bargain."

Hella fisted Kirsten's hair and pulled her head back so that Kirsten could see the hunger and the triumph in her eyes.

"Such a will! I love a woman with a mind of her own. It's like breaking a green filly--and I do love my horses!"

Hella recaptured Kirsten's mouth with a hungry urgency and deepened her kiss. Kirsten reached out.

_Freya. Lady! I told you I'll do what I have to but I'm…not into chicks…that's my kinswoman Pam's thing! Pulling the line here! Get me the fuck out of here!_

With a sudden, urgent tug Kirsten's body became a shimmering stream of particles rushing through layers of bedrock, and into the void.

* * *

Kirsten thumped hard onto solid ground in a luminous portal between the worlds.

Without thinking, she blurted out," Jesus H. Christ on a freaking pogo sticks!"

Eyes blazing, Freya leapt in front of Kirsten with the lithe grace of a stalking cat, "Hardly…" she hissed.

A prickling, pressure of heavy magic swarmed across Kirsten's skin as Freya's sapphire eyes glared into Hella's.

Hella and Freya's magics met with an audible wallop that made the portal blaze and spark. Kirsten coughed as heavy smokes that reeked of burning incense and burning hair assaulted her.

Hella regarded Freya coldly, her low voice edged with steel. "How dare you snatch back the Daughter you sent to beg my favors! She's mine bitch!"

Hella extended one finger toward Kirsten. Kirsten gasped and her body stiffened as a blue beam etched a small flowing line into her left cheekbone.

"She bears a journey mark to my kingdom--if she was not mine, I could not bestow the mark upon her. Also, I am whole in her sight. Those who see me thus have always been my lovers. You know this!"

Freya's delicate nostrils flared with fury. There was a silken thread of warning in her voice. "This Daughter is mine! I am the goddess of fertility, sterile one! By my art she was created…take care… your other aspect is hidden to her. I could, however, arrange an unveiling…"

Hella's eyes dilated and became black and opalescent. A cool mist seethed about her.

She spat out her words contemptuously. "But time, my _Lady_, is the one commodity that you cannot hoard. The Aesir need my aid, badly. Why else would you barter your beautiful gythja? You never share your toys. But you had no choice because you all know that without my aid the Doomsday of the Aesir will be upon you!"

Kirsten watched the feuding goddesses with fascinated horror.

Hella's voice softened. "Why so shocked my own? Never doubt that your own little matter is but a droplet in the sea of trouble that assaults the Aesir! She would risk you for her greater matters."

Flames erupted from Hella's clenched fists as her eyes bored into Freya's. "Do you think that I do not perceive your design? How long have you known that this beauty would perceive me fully fleshed?"

Panic like Kirsten had never known welled in her throat. She would drown in this terror unless she embraced it and explored its dark recesses until she owned it and dismissed it.

The portal was suspended between past and future in an eternal now. Outside of this space time rushed forward. The goddesses glared at each other in a dangerous silence until Kirsten's own anger, hurt, and need for vengeance forced her to speak.

"Please, my ladies! I'll do whatever it takes to see the Wraith dead and punished in Hella's realm. Just get me back now to fight this bitch…"

Kirsten froze as both goddesses regarded her with wide-eyed astonishment.

She exhaled as Freya rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"You're so sassy! Very well little one. Let's get this show on the road shall we? Hella, _my dear, once_ we agree on the terms, you will manage this business from your realm…"

Her voice was venomously sweet. "Never a dull moment down there for the hostess with the mostest…always someone new popping in."

"Remember who's is asking favors of whom…_my sweet_," Hella growled.

Lightning flashed and thunder rumbled ominously overhead. Freya looked up, pursed her lips, and then smiled charmingly.

"Oh very well!" Odin was watching and she really didn't want to get on his bad side…which was very bad indeed.

"You are, of course correct Hella. We would be _eternally_ grateful for you aid in this little matter concerning the Daughter and the bigger matter that we all know approaches. You can have her for one night every twenty years while she lives, after which we'll divvy up eternity seasonally. She can be your little Persephone--you'll get her during Samhain -- then she pops back to me for Yule and the growing months."

A smile quirked Hella's mouth, her eyes fierce and sparkling, as her eyes caught Kirsten's. "Oh, the Aesir will own me beyond the matter of this little beauty. Still, I won't be cheated! One night every ten year while she lives and from Samhain to Oestre immediately after her death!"

Freya tossed her head and placed her hands belligerently on her perfectly curved hips, "Tch! Fifteen years while she lives and I'll throw in the croning months after she expires."

Hella's face was implacable, "Thirteen years while she lives-- It's my lucky number!"

Freya scowled. Thunder rumbled, and she sighed and nodded, "Thirteen years it is and Samhain to Oestre after she dies." Freya scowled at Hella "Her future mate, the vampire king Toller Hammarskjöld, will _not _be pleased."

Hella cried out in triumph. "To hell with him! Hah! I am so pleased that I jest! It's agreed. Seal the bargain!"

The goddesses raised their arms and two towering columns of crackling energy one black, indigo, and livid white, one green, golden and red, twined together liked massive vines, then dove and snaked around and through Kirsten then vanished leaving her trembling as her body accepted and absorbed the combined magics.

Hella kissed Kirsten gently on her lips, "I'll see you shortly. I truly look forward to this little ceremony!"

Not to be outdone, Freya embraced Kirsten, gently unclasped and reclaimed her Falcon Cloak, then turned to Hella who was already dissolving into a mist.

"One moment more madam before you depart for your lovely palace. If the female traitor Bothvild is your offering I, as the girl's guardian and as goddess of fertility and love demand an offering as well."

She smiled sweetly and regarded Hella with a look of infinite smugness.

"In accordance with his right as a devoted follower of the Aesir, Kirsten Ericdóttir's once and future mate will attend the blόt."

Hella lips tightened and her eyes glowed. "Bitch!"

Freya grinned. "Whatever! She'll handfast tonight with her Vampire king. You may get her in thirteen years, but, if she survives, he'll have her tonight and every night thereafter and her maiden blood will be my tribute."

As a furiously silent Hella dissolved, her rigidly extended middle fingers eloquently expressed her opinion of her sister goddess.

Freya grinned, shrugged, and moved her hand in an arc in front of Kirsten and a portal shimmered into existence. She put her hand on Kirsten's shoulder's and whispered

"She'll get over her snit in a century or so. After all, she got what she wanted and the Aesir are grateful. You have paid off a great debt. The gods will bless you. Now that we got what we came for, it's time to go home."

Kirsten eyes blazed as her eyes met Freya's, "Lady, if the bitch kills me, help Zeline to finish the job."

Freya laughed, "Oh you'll survive tonight. You are, after all, your daddy's girl. Regardless of how we may feel about each other, Hella and I have…how do you say it…'got you back.' Now let's get you back to Finna before she dies a second time from worry."

Freya's sapphire eyes sparkled with mischief as she gently pushed Kirsten through the portal.

"Besides," she murmured to herself, "Hella would hardly allow Bothvild to send you to Folkvang without getting to cop another feel!"

* * *

_**I stay up late writing this for you, my lovelies, and I don't make a cent! **_

_**Tell me what you think.**_

_**Give A Mom of Nine the Gold of Your Review **_

_**In fact, the registered reader who gives me to my 600th review can select a theme for a Northman side story**_

_***hugs***_


	14. Chapter 15

_Chapter 15_

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_**The black crows are loaded  
With the call of things discarded  
The ribboned shard of battle  
And everything burned  
Have they forgotten we live here  
Do they think that we gave up  
Lay down and grew over  
Weeds at every turn…**_

_**….I will not rest  
Until this place is full of sunlight  
Or at least until the darkness  
Is quiet for a while  
And we will not wait  
For that murder to come calling  
The night will simply fall  
And the morning will rise**_

_**Oh sweet peace, never have you fallen  
Never have you fallen upon this town  
Oh sweet peace, when will you come calling**_

_**When will you come calling upon this town**_

_**The Wailin Jennys "Avila"**_

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_A/N: Thank you for your support for DSR-- for sticking with a fic that orbits the Sookieverse so distantly. I'm honored by your messages, reviews and by your story alerts and fav listings. I couldn't ask for more wonderful readers. _

_I also couldn't ask for more wonderful betas. AmaZen & FDM, you push & encourage me and are absolutely honest about what I give you. Thanks for putting up with me and for making me a better writer! AmaZen handled this chapter solo._

_The belief re fireflies is part of Japanese folklore. Re woad the indigo type dye that marks Kirs & Z: LOL imagine being decorated like an extra in "Braveheart": limed hair, bright blue swirls on face and body. I chose to use the rune Thorn for the blόt because Thorn is a force of simultaneous defense and destruction. The rune is symbolic of brambles or thorny bushes which were used to enclose and protect boundaries or to conceal entrances to sacred or secret spaces. Y'all are experts on fullrettirsorð. New term: A holmgang is a duel. A seax is a Viking knife, a spatha is a Viking sword._

_As always CH's characters are hers and hers alone. My characters and the concept of Daughters of the Blood are mine and mine alone. _

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Wisps of mist rose like phantoms from the moist earth and curled around fallen trees and dripping brambles. Beneath the dark canopy of hickory and live oak fireflies hovered and drifted; silent, phosphorescent sparks above the damp, lush undergrowth and dusky trunks surrounding the small spring and glade. Kirsten and Zeline watched them lazily blinking, on-off, on-off as they recovered from the Seiðr journeys taken in preparation for the blόt. Beyond the clearing where they would fight, the woods were filled with a chorus of chirring, chirping insects. Heat lightning flickered across the bellies of low-lying clouds. The air was rich with the sharpness of ozone, the pungent scent of damp earth and forest plants--innocent scents. The stench of blood and battle would fill the glade soon enough. It must; it was their wyrd to make it so. For the sake of the loved ones they had lost and the loved ones who were still here with them, they must channel their grief and anger into battle fury.

Kirsten felt the throb of Zeline's pulse in her fingertips where Z's hand clasped hers. With her free hand she brushed the waving blue journey line on her cheekbone. Zeline traced the slight raised pattern of her own seiðr marking, squeezed Kirsten's hand, and touched her cousin's mind.

…_Kirs he's gone…he told me to be strong…that he was alright…and I know he is because I saw him…and he touched my mind…he said, "Go get them baby…I'll be with you even though you can't see me."_

Kirsten transferred a thread of her immense energy reserve to her cousin, then cleared her throat and spoke softly.

"When Del and I were about eight, my mom and fadir took us out to catch fireflies. We caught so many they lit our jars like lanterns. I wanted to keep them, but mom said I had to let them go because it wasn't right to keep them. Then fadir said, 'You have to let them go älskling. Those who worship the beings called Kami say they contain the souls of soldiers who died in battle.' He opened the lid and said that they should continue on their journey. Kirsten motioned towards the glowing woods and grinned. "It's early for fireflies. Maybe they came to watch before they move on."

Zeline turned toward her cousin, her eyes slanted, cat-like. She fingered the bull-whip by her side.

"If they've come to watch, we owe them a good show. We've come this far. We'll kill this bitch, that fae bastard Ulswater, and all the other fuckers who killed my dad and hurt Del."

Kirsten met her cousin's eyes and nodded, "Yes. It's what we were born to do."

Finna Hrútsdóttir had told them that the great web of wyrd fixed a time for peace and a time for blood and that each individual tended one way or the other. Adele, with her aura of pure white light, was a woman of peace, it was her nature and strength to heal and bind. Her secret name, Sváss Brú, meant 'beloved bridge." Kirsten knew that her own essential nature, and Z's, were different. They were woman of blood, warriors--born to be the scalpels that sliced away the tumors threatening to destroy all that they held dear.

As silent as the mists, Finna stepped out of the darkened wood. Zeline and Kirsten rose, touched their foreheads and bowed before the High Gythja of the Aesir. Finna held each girl's gaze for a long moment, then nodded.

"It is well. No shadows from the other worlds linger in your minds."

Her face shone with a steadfast, serene peace.

"Daughter of Freya and Daughter of Hlin, you have traveled far and endured much to fulfill your wyrd and bring justice to bear. When I hallow and ward this ground and the witnesses of the inangard and the enemy combatant have gathered, there will be no turning back." Her clear gaze was as piercing as hot iron. "Are you still resolved?"

Both girls answered, "I am. For the sake of my kindred and for the sake of the gods I serve."

Finna clapped her hands and torches lit the perimeter of the glade. A second gythja --an older mortal woman with a powerful golden red aura --slipped out of the woods. She carried a small pot of blue woad and bowed deeply to Finna.

Finna nodded at her. "This is Sölveig--gythja of the Raven Kindred of Mississippi. She has agreed to assist."

Finna smiled. "Cleanse yourselves in the spring and then let us begin. We will mark you with runes of warding and bind your hair for battle."

_

* * *

_

Unseen drums throbbed hypnotically, accompanied by a beautiful but chilling chant as Prince Niall and King Toller entered the glade through twin rows of smoking torches. Tall and regal, Toller's proud face was almost expressionless. Only a shadow lurking in his eyes betrayed his fear for his beloved. Close behind him came Eric, one arm encircling Sookie's waist protectively, and then Pam, Marcus, Thalia and selected members of Toller's retinue.

_Hal wes ôu, Hella_

_Lady of the Lowest World!_

_Hal wes ôu, Freya_

_Lady__ of the Vanir !_

_In the black moon _

_We dance _

_Hand to hand we dance_

_Soul to soul we dance_

_Sword to sword we dance_

_In your honor we dance_

Sullen clouds hid the moonless sky. Smoke from the torches rose sluggishly to mingle with the thin veils of mist that clung to the edge of the clearing, captured by the electric magic of the powerful wards within. The very air thrummed with power. Sookie opened her mind and cast about desperately searching for her daughter and niece. But it was Eric who gently touched her mind through their bond.

_You can't reach them now min älskar. They are warded, hidden from view, and deep in the grip of the goddess. You must be strong. If she can reach out to you, Kirsten must feel only your strength and confidence. Kirsten and Zeline are strong and the Aesir favor them. With the great ones' help, Kirsten will prevail. Adele will be avenged. The traitor will become her blόt offering and will be punished forever in Wyrmsele. We have raised our daughters to embrace honor, loyalty, fidelity and courage…to address conflict directly and intelligently..._

Sookie smiled ruefully.

_ And I guess you're telling me that we have to practice what we preach! _

Their eyes met. Eric's face was a calm, almost emotionless mask; a visage practiced over many centuries. Yet beneath his calm veneer, Sookie felt the current of his own fear for Kirsten and his furious desire for revenge. The group arranged themselves silently around the perimeter of the glade as Finna Hrútsdóttir and the human gythja emerged from the mists bearing a drinking horn. Toller's eyes locked on Eric who gave an almost imperceptible nod. Sookie closed her eyes, and checked a sigh of relief. She had only caught a thread of Eric's thought, _If she falters, I will be ready,_ but it was enough. Toller and Eric would not let Kirsten die. They would break the blόt before seeing Kirsten slaughtered by the rogue traitor. The consequences of such sacrilege would be embraced with honor, if it came to that.

Finna took the drinking horn from Sölveig and looked around the circle.

"Tonight we gather to witness a blόt sacrifice in honor of the Lady Hella and The Lady Freya and through them, the gods we serve. This space has been hallowed by sacred song. Dark liquor brewed by your faithful followers fills this horn--dark as the soil of their ancestors, foamy as the churning water of our northern falls."

Finna lifted the horn high. "Holy ones, for you this drink is poured. Just as many grains and many drops of water joined to make this blessed drink, so are we one in spirit and desire tonight. I sign this horn with the rune Thorn, to enclose and protect. For tonight our champion is warded against danger-- never may she falter."

Cradling the horn in one arm, Finna drew the rune on the foamy brew. Several younger vampires hissed audibly as Finna drank from the horn without ill effect before calmly passing it to Sölveig. The human gythja drank deeply, and carefully carried the horn first to Niall and then to Sookie who gravely drained it.

Despite the solemnity and tension Eric's mouth quirked slightly. _Don't worry. _

_Our little one is of warrior stock; he can handle a bit of blessed beer._

Sookie bit her tongue to stop a nervous giggle. _Yeah…and if that beer is proof that the gods want humans to be happy, it's a helluva thing to offer tonight!_

Happiness would not be part of tonight's agenda until she held her living daughter in her arms after the sacrifice. Beneath a tent of lowering clouds, the woods had fallen silent. The insects ceased their relentless buzzing as a breathless pall settled over the warded glade. All eyes were drawn to the far end of the glade as King Stanislaus' powerful form emerged from the mist leading a spare, muscular woman by a thin length of warded silver chain.

Sookie dug her nails into Eric's arm as his fangs ran out. He tensed like a hunting lion, blue eyes blazing and every nerve of his being fixed upon the female, who stared at him with cold, venomous eyes.

The gythjas raised their hands and murmured a binding charm in Old Norse. Stan was not gentle as he loosed the chains from Bothvild's smoking wrists. He wanted to rip the assassin to shreds, but turned to join Toller and Eric instead. Bothvild's flint-grey eyes flickered to Finna then struggled to slide away, but Finna held her gaze. Her brilliant blue eyes pulled at Bothvild's essence with a heavy power. Bothvild squirmed and twisted as Finna plumbed the abyss of her soul.

Still, Bothvild's lip curled up in a sneer.

"Do as you will…I will see you all squirming in torment and begging for death before the end…"

Finna's gaze was cold. "Be still Bothvild Eadgyth and hear the words of your gythja and law-sayer. I declare you outlaw--utgard. For your betrayal of the Aesir and allegiance to the Jotten, for leading a host of demons into our realm to make war upon your own kind, for your offenses against the King of this realm and for the defilement and attempted murder of Adele Ericdóttir, your life is forfeit. Kirsten Ericdóttir claims fullrettirsorð for the outrage you have committed against her sister and kindred."

Bothvild's face distorted with fanatic conviction. "Does she not know the prophesy? My Lord Loki's time is here. I cannot lose in battle. Centuries ago a seer far greater than you pronounced that a fledgling bird shall lead me to my Lord."

Her eyes burned with rage as she glared at Eric, then Stan, and Pam. "Even yon torturers could not stay my allegiance to my Lord! I embrace the rite of holmgang by any weapon or hand to hand. My sword shall sing and the young fool's blood will soak the ground. I kill in the name of my Lord Loki and the victory He grants me will prove his might!"

There was an audible "_snick" _as fangs descended all around_. _Eric's eyes blazed. Toller growled low in his throat. Bothvild's hatchet face contorted with hatred and her hands curved into claws. She twisted to find her enemies, but Finna commanded her gaze. The air throbbed with magic as Finna produced a Viking spatha and seax.

"Your soul is twisted and darkened beyond repair --rife with hatred, seared with pride; your kills are wanton or motivated by your service to an evil master. You are granted holmgang…"

Her eyes bored into Bothvild's.

"You are granted this rite as proof that your master and his minions will not prevail. You are granted this rite because it fulfills the Northman and Brigant kindred's claim of fullrettirsorð. You are the blόt sacrifice."

Finna handed the weapons to Bothvild.

"Behold the fledgling."

Lightning flashed. Eerie cries and jubilant ululations echoed through the clearing as Kirsten stepped through the curtain of mist. Kirsten Ericdóttir was transformed by battle fury. Like a hovering falcon intent upon its prey, she channeled an ancient savagery. Toller could not tear his gaze from the magnificent creature who advanced from the mist wearing nothing but a soft short kirtle of smooth, light buckskin girding her hips.

This lioness was neither Selin whom he had known in a past life nor the young aristocratic woman with whom he had fallen in love. This was a warrior from a fiercer time. With her Viking spatha, seax, and woad tattoos, Kirsten was a vision of her warrior heritage and a finer boned version of her father. Her golden mane was tightly bound against her scalp. Multiple braids were coated with lime and coiled against her head.

A single raven's feather bound with red thread fluttered behind her ear. Blue tri-spirals and protective runes flowed down her firm biceps, rippling muscles and the strong tendons that defined the contours of her athletic body. For a moment she was entirely still, knuckles white, tendons etched about her spatha's hilt. She was deep in the grip of the goddess; so deep that she had achieved the point of balance, a state of intense clarity and focus.

She advanced, silent and majestic as a panther, feeling power surge through her legs, back, shoulders and wrists. She raised her spatha to strike and swung downward with the agility and force of her thousand year old father as Bothvild screamed a battle cry and parried the blow. But Kirsten, as she twisted away, slashed undead flesh, and drew first blood.

The Wraith howled, then taunted, "Stupid girl, that scratch will soon heal!" as Kirsten danced away with a warrior's grace.

Sookie felt Eric's pride flowing across their bond, as her heart squeezed and she held her breath as the rogue flew toward Kirsten.

_That was well done. Although the bitch does not realize it, Kirsten has ritually marked her with the first of the sacrificial runes --Thorn--the force that fights a foe._

Their swords flashed red in the torchlight, ringing and hissing as the combatants met and drew against each other. They flew at each other again and again. Over and over, each countered the other's lightning-fast moves. Kirsten grunted, jabbed. The Wraith's spatha dropped to the ground and Kirsten quickly kicked it to the side. Then she sprang at the Wraith, but landed with a thud on empty ground. Toller cursed. Finna silenced him with a stern glance, as they all remembered why Bothvild was called The Wraith.

Hair rose on the back of Kirsten's neck and she twisted to the right. Something grazed her cheek. A foot she realized, a foot trying to take her head off. It hit her hand instead with terrible force and knocked her sword away. Zeline, Kirsten's second, darted in to retrieve both swords. Once a blόt weapon was dropped it could not be used again.

Sweat ran down Kirsten's face and blood ran from her mouth. She knew that that could be the last mistake she'd ever make. Her enemy was every bit as skilled as she and had had centuries to perfect her moves.

She heard her mother gasp as her hand was caught from behind. She went with the hold, turning into it and bringing her leg up and out in a stunning roundhouse kick that went straight to The Wraith's solar plexus.

Bothvild's rib cracked with a satisfying snap and she went down hard, doubling over. Kirsten marked her a second time with the arrow rune of Tyr--for justice.

Sookie shuddered.

_She'll kill Kirs if she becomes invisible again! _

Eric touched her through the bond.

_She can't use her gift again anytime soon. She's too depleted. She'll need all of her energy to heal her wounds and fight._

Still, Bothvild sprang to her feet. The realization that this fledgling was strong--that this might be her final fight-- only spurred the Wraith on to fight harder, faster.

Kirsten got in a couple more powerful hits, even heard something else crack. She was drenched in sweat…her hands stinging from the force of the blows they'd exchanged.

Block. Parry. Strike. Finally, Kirsten's rammed her knife upward between Bothvild's ribs and drove The Wraith to her knees. She stared at Bothvild with pitiless eyes.

"This is for Adele and my kinsmen. Bitch!"

With a powerful rip Kirsten opened the woman's chest and pulled out her lungs--the Viking Blood Eagle. As Bothvild shrieked in agony, Eric, Toller, Pam and Stan smiled cruelly and Kirsten screamed out her victory hlakka.

Finna touched Zeline, "Go to her. I'll collect the blood and consecrate it to the goddesses"

Bothvild stared into Kirsten's ice blue eyes. A flicker, then a flame of comprehension crossed her face,

Kirsten spoke quietly. Firmly. "Yes I really am the fledgling bird that will send you to the other world."

Zeline knelt beside her. Kirsten reached for her hand and placed Z's hand with her own on the knife's hilt and addressed the goddess Hella.

"Queen of Darkness

We hail thee now

Ruler of the Night

Do not welcome this traitor into thy hallows

Show her the pathway of shadows

To Wyrmsele where her judgment bides

To thy justice this soul I confide

And may our enemies take notice."

Kirsten paused. Zeline tightened her grip on the hilt, and growled.

"Now, go to Hel bitch!"

They drove the knife through The Wraith's heart, and then Kirsten opened her throat while Finna collected her dark blood. In the still night Kirsten shivered as she felt cool invisible fingers caress her cheek. The mists that had veiled the clearing coalesced and spiraled around the Wraith's corpse, drawing out a sooty black phantom that wailed thinly before sinking into the battle scarred earth.

Kirsten sank to the ground, head bowed and chest heaving. She had done it. She had avenged her sister and delivered her avowed sacrifice. No longer a fledgling, she was now a full Gythja and priestess of the Aesir. And though she did not see it yet, her father's eyes glowed with a ferocious pride_._

Finna lifted the Hlautbowl, now filled with blood, and spilled some onto the ground as an offering to the Aesir. She then poured the dark blood into the horn, then offered it first to Kirsten.

"With this sacramental drink you claim your first blood meal and embrace your heritage before these witnesses."

Kirsten touched her forehead in deference, lifted the horn, and drank, while her vampire kindred watched with delight.

Then Finna passed the horn to Sölveig who bore it to Eric, Stan, Toller, Pam and the other vampires until it was drained.

A breeze rose and strengthened, driving the mist and The Wraith's ashes before it and rending the tent of clouds until the soft caul of the Milky Way flowed with a million stars above their heads. Sölveig brought Kirsten and Zeline to the spring to drink, wash and unbind their hair. Finna wrapped them in linen cloaks, crowned their heads with garlands of magnolia blossoms, and nodded to Sookie and Eric.

Sookie and Eric rushed toward Kirsten, who rose trembling with shock and fatigue as her battle fury ebbed. Yet joy shone in her eyes as Sookie caressed her face and projected all a mother's love and relief straight to Kirsten's heart. Eric placed his forehead against hers and murmured in the Old tongue, "My own…you did well…" They gathered Zeline into their embrace as well, holding the two maidens while the witnesses crowded round to offer their congratulations.

Finna stepped forward and the celebrants stilled.

"This is now a joyous night-- a night of victory that will be long remembered. Kirsten Ericdóttir has completed fullrettirsorð and delivered the blόt offering to the goddess Hella. She must now fulfill her promise to her patron, the goddess Freya. Toller Hammarskjöld step forward and join your beloved as the goddess wills."

Eric's hand tightened upon Kirsten's shoulder. Sookie searched her daughters eyes, touched her mind. Kirsten reached out so that they shared her peace and joy. For tonight, at least, there were no more shadows across her heart.

_It's alright. Freya wants Toller and me handfasted…she demanded the gift of my…ermm…you know…as her blόt offering._

Eric looked slightly scandalized. "I understand min dόttir." He turned to Finna. "I cannot object to a ceremony ordered by my Lady Freya." His eyes fixed upon Toller. "But I insist upon a full formal ceremony when the current crisis is over."

Toller inclined his head. "It is only fitting to honor so glorious a bride with a ceremony befitting her station and renown."

Sookie searched Kirsten's face.

_Is this what you want honey…Do you love this man? Are you ready to make this commitment…it's every bit as binding as a formal marriage._

Kirsten's face shone with steadfast peace and joy.

"Our souls are joined. When I'm with Toller, time and space don't matter. There are no boundaries because we're destined to be together."

Eric put his arm around Sookie. "We understand min älskling. We will always be a part of you."

Both felt joy and sorrow as Toller took his place at Kirsten's side and Eric placed her hand in Toller's.

Finna nodded, and began. "Good friends, gather round. We call upon the Lady Freya, kindler of desire, bringer of love, the always desirous and sensual lover, to be present here and witness the joining of Kirsten Ericdóttir and Toller Hammarskjöld."

"Know now, before you go further, that your souls have met again in this life. As you seek to enter this rite you will become a focus for the power that is raised here, and your ties will be strengthened. Understand, the knots of this binding are not made on this plane. With full awareness, know that within this circle you are not only declaring your intent to be handfasted before your friends and family, but you speak that intent also before your Goddesses and Gods. "

"As time passes, remember... like a star should your love burn brightly; like the earth should your love be firm. Have no fear, for the Gods are with you. "

She regarded them solemnly. "Do you still seek to enter this rite, to join of your own free will, and acknowledge before the Lady Freya the bond that is shared between you?"

They shared a gaze of unspeakable joy then answered with one voice. "We do."

Finna beamed and unsheathed her ritual knife."Face each other and hold up your left palms."

In a quicksilver motion she sliced their palms and bound them with a white cord.

"Now repeat these words of joining and binding,"

Heart to thee,  
Soul to thee,  
Body to thee,  
Forever and always,  
So mote it be.

Sookie watched her daughter and Toller repeat the words of binding and love. She squeezed Eric's hand as Finna held the lovers' cord-bound hands high in the air for the guests to witness.

The drums fell silent and the torches flickered out as Finna and Sölveig removed the wards and sprinkled water from the sacred spring around the glade. Sookie and Eric embraced their radiant daughter and new son in law then stood back as their friends and kindred crowded around the couple offering their congratulations. Soon they would disperse to their places of rest and the couple would consummate their union as the goddess willed. As she basked in the knowledge of Kirsten's happiness, Sookie remembered her own struggle to accept Eric as the true love of her life and touched him gently through their bond.

_Heart to thee_

_Soul to thee_

_Body to thee_

Eric's eyes brimmed with tenderness and passion as they met Sookie's and he completed the vow.

_Forever and always._

_So mote it be._

_

* * *

_

_After all the __sturm und drang _

_I thought this chappy should end on a sweet romantic Valentine's Day note _

_Lemons NEXT Chapter… [they're waiting in the wings__]_

_**Writing is hard work**_

_**(Especially when I've got Freya and Hella breathing down my neck !!)**_

_**Mmmmwah! This Chapter Is My Valentine To You**_

_**Give me a review valentine **_


	15. Chapter 16

A/N: _**Massive apologies for the HUGE gap in DSR. Life has been well, overwhelming, but I'm back in the saddle FFwise. **_

_**As a make-up gift, there's lots of lemony goodness in this chapter ;-D **_

_**Check out my other continuing fics, AH AU **__**Birthday Suit**__**, and AU Parody **__**Where No Man Has Gone Before**__**. I've also written a prequel to the Trilogy, **__**Once**__**, which sort of explains how Eric will find Sookie. Oh, and Meads wants me to pimp Teaser Mondays at the Sookieverse… go there to get the latest goodies on the fics you love.**_

_**Anyone good at banner making? DSR and Understanding need banners. If you'd like to make one please PM me **_

_**CH's characters are hers and hers alone. My characters and the concept of Daughters of the Blood are mine and mine alone.**_

_**Thanks AmaZen—beta goddess!**_

_*********_

_**You came for me in fast forward  
On a claim for something ordered  
A way through and past the history that held you  
I'd tell my own story through you  
Tell it loud to never lose you  
A moth caught by a flame it cannot measure…**_

_**-The Wailin' Jennys-**_

_*********_

Kirsten had sent the the Wraith to Hel--the last of her ashes scattered on the breeze. The harsh sounds and scents of battle had been replaced by laughter and the susurrus of leaves in the forest surrounding the clearing. Now, magnolia petals were strewn upon the very ground where she had battled for her sister's and her family's honor.

Toller's lips brushed Kirsten's as her family, friends and Toller's closest retainers, crowded round to embrace and congratulate them. Kirsten relaxed into the loving embraces of her family as the clouds cleared and the sky blossomed with stars. Her seiðr journey, victorious battle, and handfasting had pushed her beyond aching muscles and mental and physical exhaustion. The magics and physical reserves she had called upon this night had changed her. She had touched the divine, and now perceived the wondrous, fierce and evolving reality of the great web of wyrd. With a sigh of satisfaction, she'd put off her battle gear and donned a garland.

Gripping the earth of the clearing beneath her toes, Kirsten could sense the molten heat deep within the Mother's womb and feel the inexorable pressure of its restless upward thrusting deep below the surface soil where seeds strained toward warmth and light. The very air hummed with life. She took in a deep breath, grounding herself in the reassuring musky scent of leaves and damp earth, the sharp-sweet tang of pine and rising sap, and the delicate jasmine and rosewater fragrance of the magnolias that crowned her head. For tonight at least, Freya was sated with blood and death. Now that she had fulfilled her oath and slain the Wraith, Kirsten still owed to Freya, whom she served as a gythja, the mantle of her maidenhead.

_Is it so unpleasant a task my own? I must say you lucked out! You man is just luscious, and rich, and powerful—smart too—and very, very well…preserved. What's a little pinch—a moment's discomfort compared to the feast of ecstasy I've provided for you? Now run along and do your part for my spring fling!_

Hairs rose on her neck. Holy shit! It wasn't everyday even a high gythja got PMed by a goddess.

Finna looked at Kirsten sharply and touched her forehead in deference to the Lady, then smiled. The Lady was in her element—well several elements actually—battle blood, spring, renewal, and sex, sex, sex. Even the insects were hooking up. Fireflies phosphoresced about her--tiny stars twinkling in the dark, searching for mates. And speaking of future mates, Toller had just finished talking to Finna and was now head to head with her father. The broad planes of their faces were as stern as the graven images of the warrior gods they served. Eric said, something to Toller, softly and quickly. Then they gripped each other's forearms before Eric nodded and resumed his place by her mother's side joking and laughing as if tonight had been no more than a social affair at The Valhalla. She caught Toller's eye and raised an eyebrow. His mouth quirked a bit and he shrugged slightly.

Faðir could be pushy, to say the least. But he respected Toller not for what he was but for who he was—a man of integrity and intelligence; a cunning warrior with enough ambition to hold a kingship; a steadfast lover who had never stopped loving his soulmate. They'd agreed upon something that they hadn't wanted her to hear and had looked like grim death while they muttered. Were they laying plans, or threatening the hell out of each other? With Toller's hungry eyes now upon her Kirsten was rocked by waves of desire and trepidation. Next he would lift her into the velvet dark, bring her…somewhere. They'd get naked….and then. Would he be gentle or too eager to care?

She'd heard plenty of stories about first sexual experiences from both human and supernatural women. Their comments had ranged from "I was a little sore," to "It hurt like hell!" She'd gone pretty far with Jacques, but the deed itself had been left undone and despite years of pounding up and down lacrosse fields, and posting on horses, she remained intact. She felt her mother touch her mind and blushed furiously. Damn! Not blocking always had consequences. Of course she and her mother had discussed sex. She told her how it had been with Bill, which was NOT a topic she had wanted to think about right now. How he'd told an inexperienced woman, "This is going to hurt." And how it had, but that "in the end it had been…wonderful." She'd smiled wryly, "Although your father later told me how_ he _would have gone about things…and I'm pretty sure there would have been more "wow" than "ow" from the get go." Yuck. She caught her mother's eye and smiled—she definitely didn't want to hear any more maternal anecdotes.

_I'm OK_

Her mother's delicate brows drew together. Her eyes searched Kirsten's.

_Are you, honey? _

Of course, she wasn't "OK". She was overflowing with joy and sorrow, fatigue and restless energy. She'd been initiated, sent on a journey to realms most people couldn't imagine, had battled a fanatical vampire assassin, and had hand fasted with a man her heart knew from another life. She paused before answering—searching deep, traveling toward a warmth and certainty she felt in the very core of her being.

Then she smiled. There was something she could say to reassure her anxious mother.

_When we had our "talk," you told me Dad told you 'this is good…this is right.' That's how I feel about Toller. Somehow he makes all the bits and pieces of my life settle into place and everything just feels right."_

Sookie smiled. Many years earlier, Eric had told her of his own seiðr journey, after the Halloween Massacre in 1876. When he did, she had suddenly understood why he was always so damned sure that they would be together. It was the first time they'd made love after the girls were born. He had gathered her close and confided, "Over a century ago, the goddess Freya sent me on a _seiðr_ journey. I was lonely, haunted by my friend Gregory's death. The goddess asked me to focus upon my heart's desire—and what I wanted more than anything was my former life, my wife Aude, our children. She came to me," and here he had paused, still amazed by the mystery of the magic that had reunited them so briefly. "But I couldn't take her from that life that was ours. When I sent Aude back to her own time and returned to my own without her, the Lady Freya told me that I would be blessed for my choice…"

He'd smiled wryly. "I didn't know who to expect…or when. But from the moment I laid eyes upon you in Fangtasia, a white lily in a black pool, I knew that you were my blessing and that you would be mine."

Sookie gaze softly at her daughter, then at her husband, who was speaking to one of Toller's retainers. They were so alike—vibrant, spectacular beings whose restless spirits found a safe harbor in their soul mates. Knowing this, she could look into her daughter's beautiful eyes and tell her,

_Then you'll be happy and tonight will be wonderful…you'll both make it that way .." _She smiled._ "Here comes your cousin…I hope she isn't giving you any 'good' advice!"_

Kirsten blocked her before Zeline's suggestion could slip out.

Zeline leaned her head against Kirsten, slid her hand around her cousin's waist and whispered, "… So it's time for cherry pop! C'est l'amour n'est-ce pas? "

Kirsten snorted. "Yeah, well you'd know all about_ that_."

Zeline's mouth twisted wryly**. "**Certainment ma petite chou. Make sure he lets you go on top…" She eyeballed Toller. " If he's proportional, it will let you control his first long, long thrust. Then just plant your bottom firmly against his big heavy balls and ride Sally ride!"."

"Zee!"

Zeline hugged Kirsten fiercely. "You know how much I love you? If he _ever _does anything to hurt you, I'll rip his balls off…one at a time…then I'll watch them grow back and do it again!"

"That's definitely not a very romantic image for my wedding night Zee!"

Zeline clenched her fists. "Part of me's so damn angry! Del and my Dad…and the others who were hurt or killed…and it's not over…I just wish…" She stopped abruptly and swallowed the despair in her throat, "but this isn't the time for those thoughts…"

Kirsten put her head against Zeline's and they shared a silent moment filled with images of Del stricken and limp; the journey to Hella's realm and the feel of Kirsten's bloody hand covering her cousin's as they drove knife into the Wraith's heart and sent her to Hel. Del's loss was soul-deep and her absence pierced Kirsten's heart. They were joined magically and shared more than DNA—their spirits were linked. Without Del, some deep root within her had been severed. Instinctively, she closed her eyes reached out to her sister…nothing but wind and the magical thrum of the supernaturals and the constant powerful waves of growing, dying, movement and stillness in the earth and air about her.

"_Del, no one can take your place….but there's an empty place within that I never realized was there until Toller filled it."_

Toller's fingers brushed Kirsten's shoulder and she opened her eyes with a start. Zee had stepped away and stood next to Prince Niall. She was suddenly aware that Finna Hrutsdóttir stood in front of them and that their friends and family were standing in a circle around them. She looked up into Toller's deep volcanic blue eyes, her mind a crazy mixture of fear and anticipation. Toller smiled back warmly, took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

Finna nodded. "It is time."

Toller lifted Kirsten and cradled her against his chest while the guests beamed. Pam winked and showed a bit of fang, Niall blew Kirsten a kiss, and Zeline tapped her crossed fingers to her chest. Her mother managed a tremulous smile but her father's face was a beneficent mask. She wondered what he was thinking as he gave his beloved daughter to another man.

It hadn't always been easy between them; Eric and Kirsten were too similar--like two large celestial bodies whose orbits crossed , they were bound to collide occasionally. But she was his _dottir_, flesh of his flesh, and now another strong and powerful male would become the center of her life. For years she had rebelled, yearned for her own space apart from her father's "domination."

Now she was free, in a way. She would be a queen--a stranger in a foreign land. When she thought of the farm, the casual countlessness of her girlhood, she realized that that she had crossed a bridge and that happy childhood was now behind her. After years of locking horns with Faðir, it wouldn't be easy for either to let go. It wasn't his nature to trust her to any other and yet, he had entrusted her to Toller.

She would have to find out exactly what Eric had said to her husband--maybe tomorrow night...after she'd truly become Toller's and he had become hers. The high gythja nodded to her father. A flicker of apprehension coursed through her. Would he give them his blessing?

Almost imperceptibly, Eric nodded. A hint of a smiled tipped the corners of his mouth as he and Sookie stepped forward. Kirsten swallowed hard, forcing back tears as her parents' hands—her father's calloused and scarred, the hand of a warrior, and her mother's, slender and smooth— covered theirs.

"Kirsten Eric_dóttir_and Toller Hammarskjöld, we entrust you to each other. There is nothing more joyful than a life fulfilled. There is nothing more beautiful than finding the one who brings fulfillment."

He gazed tenderly at her mother. For a long moment her mother held his gaze, her eyes bright with tears. Then both parents focused on them. She sensed her father was holding his own powerful emotions in check.

"Your love is a gift given to few of our kind. Go now with our blessing and join together in its splendor."

A rush of wind and then— they were above the dark velvet canopy of the trees, the fading whoops and ribald shouts below replaced by a river of starlight above. It glimmered over Toller's handsome face, across the elegant ridge of his cheekbones—his dark brows and the lashes bold against his pale skin. He smiled down at her and kissed her head.

She giggled, "You know I've got more moves than Wonder Woman. I can't go as fast as Supergirl, but I've got this flying thing nailed…"

His chest rumbled with amusement and cast a practical eye over the bouquet of blue, purple, and greenish-yellow bruises blooming on her arms legs, and cheek.

"I know. But even Wonder Woman and Supergirl enjoy a cuddle, and you're still healing and exhausted." He grinned, showing fang, and pressed her closer to him. "Besides, I like to hold you. I want you well rested min svass."

Kirsten snorted and traced his nipple, gooseflesh rising beneath her finger.

"Do that again," he growled, "and I won't be a responsible driver…"

Kirsten traced his other nipple. "Are you always this…responsible?" He hissed as she pinched gently and touched it with her tongue.

A flash of humor crossed his face, then he slowly and seductively took her in. "Oh I'm the very best of drivers." His hand slid to her rump and squeezed. "I know how to handle every curve…Gods, you have a lovely ass!"

She glanced up at him her voice silky. "Nicer than Wonder Woman's?"

His mouth twitched with amusement. "I _knew _Lynda Carter, in the 70s…and her ass was magnificent…Ow! You have a wicked pinch Svass!"

He hefted her bottom. "Hmm…when I've become thoroughly acquainted with both of these…I'll let you know…Svass?"

He glanced down and smiled. She had relaxed thoroughly against him in the sudden sleep of utter exhaustion; her breathing deep and regular. A mane of honey hair cascaded over the golden round of her shoulder. He kissed her and breathed deeply, reveling in the rich, sweet scent of her warm skin. Gods! She was magnificent. His balls and cock ached with the need of her, but he planned to be gentle. The faint scents of blood and battle mingled with her own spicy-sweet scents of orange blossom and honey, making him want to land and ravish her in a frenzy of lust. He had planned very carefully how he'd take her. When she remembered her first time, he wanted her to shiver with pleasure.

Kirsten woke and stretched languorously as Toller landed in a small clearing, where the ground hummocked and bucked downward to a swift spring-fed stream. A meteor blazed and arced above massive live oak and long leaf pine whose huge trunks soared up to meet their rustling canopy. Bits of mica from an ancient quarry glittered in the starlight. A thick carpet of moss, last year's leaves, and clumps of wood violets carpeted the hillside. Surrounded by the absolute dark of the forest, the clearing seemed a haven of light. He caught her hand, kissing her palm and then her wrist over the throbbing pulse of her strong, young heart, then reached out and stroked the delicate flare of her collarbone, and gently traced a slow serpentine to her full breasts. "You're exquisite …min svass."

Stoking a growing fire, he traced the soft fullness of her lips with his tongue, demanding a response. Shivers of desire raced through her as she parted her lips, stroked the broad planes of his back, and deepened their kiss. Her knees turned to water as his tongue stabbed and swirled in her mouth while his hands were busy untying her sash. Then he dipped his head, suckling her nipples through the thin linen until they pebbled and rose . His hands slid the tunic over the fullness of her hips until she stood before him, naked and glorious, tall and proud--a tawny goddess whose beauty was his for the taking.

His eyes caressed her, slowly and seductively. He held out his arms. "Come to me,"

His hands floated down the curves of her voluptuous breasts and the arch of her ribcage, brushed her soft tawny nest of curls. He made a hungry noise and kissed her long and deep, exploring the sweet warmth of her mouth and pressing his arousal hard against the warm silken skin of her stomach. Her heavy lashes flew up. "Oh, my God," she whispered, "You're huge!"

Toller stared at her speechless for a moment then burst out laughing. Her cheeks crimsoned as he ground against her and nuzzled her neck, "Not my fault…"

Her breath quickened and her face grew hot, "Oh …this is…wow…that's the biggest…"

His left eyebrow rose a fraction, " You're knowledgeable about…such matters?"

She lifted her chin and met his gaze, "I'm a twenty-first century virgin…and I wasn't raised in a bubble." A mischievous glint came into her eyes. "Let me show you what I know…"

She took her time undressing him, caressing and planting open mouthed kisses on the rippling, smooth muscles of his broad back and the smooth pale expanse of muscle and sinew tapering down to his taut, flat abdomen. Her nipples skimmed tantalizingly against his chest while her hands trailed down the deep groove of his backbone as she slid to her knees, flicked his throbbing cock with her moist warm tongue. His balls ached and he trembled with the effort not to thrust her against a tree and take her hard as she wrapped her hand around the base of his manhood and took him into her mouth. She was young—very eager and, despite her bravado, very naïve.

He'd give her free rein to do with him as she pleased for a while more. Or perhaps not. Toller groaned. Bone melting heat churned down his spine and erupted in his balls in roiling waves of sheer lust. This was not what he had planned, but it was definitely what he needed and definitely where he wanted her right now—his hands tangled in her hair, her mouth sliding over him until he was on fire—consumed by her. The storm of wanting that raged within him was too great. He must take her now—claim her and mark her as his own.

When she pulled back, he eased her back gently onto the cool moss and cupped her breasts tonguing her nipples to tortured peaks as her murmured, "You're mine Svass…mine and mine alone—heart, soul and body. And I'm yours."

His hands gently spread her thighs apart and he buried his face among her golden curls. Her heartbeat throbbed in his ears and the intoxicating musk of her body overwhelmed him. He reveled in her feminine strength and beauty, her youth, her innocence—and the power of her soul to call to him across the ages. His tongue flicked, tasting what no other man would ever taste. She arched into his cool mouth as he licked her length—warm, rich, and slick with arousal—her taste and scent still pure…untouched. She was his. His. His. Broad hands cupped the rounds of her bottom, taking him deeper into her. She gasped and shivered,

He chuckled, "Mmmm?"

She arched her hips sharply in response. He nuzzled the silken skin above her femoral artery. Every inch of her tingled and burned, exquisitely sensitive to his slightest touch. His fangs ran fully out as he kissed the nexus of thigh and groin where hot blood rushed beneath the fragile veneer of her skin.

She writhed up against him, "Oh God, Toller don't stop now…I'm so close!" and cried out as his fangs caressed the tender flesh then sunk deep—taking her into him—following the pathway to her heart and making it his. Then he was above her, his mighty arms corded, framing her in the last moment of her maidenhood, recording the heat and wanting in her eyes as they blazed into his and mirrored his own hunger. Her legs rose and wrapped about his hips. He pressed, felt her tear, held still and stroked her cheek as her heart thundered against him-- felt her tense, release and open to him again . He slid slowly deeper, through throbbing satin flesh to the pulsating core of her until she sheathed him completely. She was tight, hot, and very, very sweet. He rolled his hips, moving slowly deep within her, holding himself back, as her body stretched and molded to his.

She pressed frantically against him, flushed with abandon. He growled and moved hard against her then, faster and frantic, rocking her to her womb as he could never do with a human woman. Kirsten gasped in sweet agony as wave upon wave of wild ecstasy throbbed through her. Her fangs ran out. Instinctively she nuzzled his neck, bit, and drank from him. Toller cried out, "My queen!" His magnificent body shuddered as he spilled himself into her and lost himself in a soul-shattering release. Time seemed to stop as they clung together, shaken by this first powerful joining and the sensation of their parted souls reuniting.

Feeling soothed and safe for the first time since the attack, Kirsten dozed. As her head rested peacefully in the hollow of Toller's shoulder, she marveled at feeling so warm, sticky, tender and yet wonderful at the same time. Toller stroked her neck, shoulder, waist and hips humming softly and tunelessly as the stars wheeled above them. She could feel his thoughts and emotions even more strongly than before and what she felt was contentment and love. She thought this must be how her parents felt, and that it was both beautiful and terrifying to be entrusted with the secrets of another's soul and heart. She thought of a quote from her mother's holy book, _My beloved's arm is under me and his hand beneath my head…__ He brought me to the banqueting house, and his banner over me was love. __…_

He'd lived such a long life—had journeyed so far to find the woman his soul was bound to. She bit her lip nervously… but in this life she was young, clumsy –not yet fully open to the vast store of knowledge hidden in her ancient soul. Toller, however, had and could have everything he desired—the whole world was his. What could she add to so vast a life? Feeling her unrest, Toller pulled her closer.

"My queen, you are my soul. If I could be anywhere in the world right now, I'd be right here."

"We have time to rediscover–time to grow and become one. The worlds tremble. We are poised on the brink of war and oblivion. If I lost my kingdom and all of my worldly goods, it wouldn't matter." He cupped her face and gazed into her eyes with infinite tenderness. "I don't need anything other than you."

_************_

**Thanks for your patience! Are y'all still reading? **

_**Everyone who reads please leave a review, just this once at least.**_

**Then I'll know if my effort is still worth the effort.**

**Psst! What do you think Eric said to Toller?**

*hugs*


	16. Chapter 17

Chapter 17 DSR

A/N: _Thanks for all of your support. Y'all rock._

Um…terms-- _hamingja_ is luck, _maegen_ is vital force. Both are aspects of the soul matrix in Heathen beliefs. _Inangard_ is family/clan._ Utgard_ can be interpreted as everything outside of clan and family, something unknown, possibly hostile

CH's characters are hers and hers alone. My characters and the concept of Daughters of the Blood are mine and mine alone.

_Check out the beautiful banner Zigster made for DSR (the link's on my profile page). _ I mention events from two side stories—Del's claiming by Odin at her coming of age at twelve in "Luck", and Eric's brief, emotional meeting with Aude in "Once." Also remember that Niall was in cahoots with Freya re the girls' conception in_ Understanding_.

**Thanks AmaZen, my beta queen.**

_**8888**_

…**Blade of lightning harvesting the sky.**

**Keeper of the small gate, choreographer**

**of entrances and exits, midnight  
whisper travelling the wires.**

**Seducer, healer, deity or thief,  
I will see you soon enough—  
in the shadow of the rainfall,**

**in the brief violet darkening a sunset—  
but until then I pray watch over him  
as a mountain guards its covert ore**

**and the harsh falcon its flightless young.**

**From **_**The Gods of Winter**_**  
**

**by Dana Gioia**

_**8888**_

Eric's gut wrenched as he and Sookie watched Toller Hammarskjöld lift Kirsten into the night and into a new life. Eighteen years ago the gods graced them with two miracles. Nestled beneath Sookie's heart, born into his arms, lovingly raised, and nurtured, Kirsten and Adel had blossomed and become remarkable young women. His blindness to immediate threat, his lack of vigilance had brought about this disaster. He had been born a warrior, raised to fight with spatha and ax. By the age of twelve he had been prepared to defend his family and inangard to the death. He had knelt in mute agony before his Viking wife and child's grave and the graves of countless comrades. He'd survived countless battlefields and knew the price of war and the necessity of vigilance.

Now a dark storm was upon them and his failure to defend his own had turned their world upside down. For the first time in centuries, his maegen, his vital force, his hamingja, and his wits hadn't been powerful enough to overcome the events that boiled down upon them. Thoughts of Del haunted him—her delicate face battered, blood dripping from her mouth as he handed her over to the care of her Fae kinsman. He pictured Kirsten's lithe form twisting just in time to keep The Wraith from taking her head off, wounded and drenched in sweat as she screamed her hlakka and attacked her enemy.

They were all hapless swimmers dragged by a mighty current that spanned the worlds.

Eric pulled Sookie closer as he gazed up at the stars and planets wheeling on the inky backdrop of the night sky.

Hammarskjöld was a good match for Kirsten, someone Eric respected as a leader and as a man. He had been aware of his fellow Norseman for centuries, but had only begun to scrutinize him closely when the king's emissary had approached Eric and Sookie to request Kirsten's hand in marriage.

Toller's reputation as a playboy had nearly kept Eric from giving him permission to meet Kirsten—until Sookie reminded him of his own pre-marital status.

"Isn't this a case of the pot calling the kettle black, honey? But you've been faithful. King Toller's the best of the prospects. Shouldn't we give him a chance?"

"Of course I'm faithful. Who wouldn't be with such a wife?" She was lover and friend, a loving and nurturing mother. Yet she was also a ruthless warrior when it came to protecting those she loved.

After Sookie's absolutely negative reaction to several possible matches, she and Eric had pored over all of the information they'd gathered on Toller. Eric had been gratified and relieved when Sookie decided that he was "worth a shot." He'd also been pleased when Felipe de Castro's spies reported that King Toller ruled both his kingdom and business empire firmly and fairly, but dealt with enemies and deceitful followers efficiently and ruthlessly.

Eric had watched with an amused smile as Sookie studied Hammarskjöld's dossier. "So, my lover, you're inclined to like the Viking king?"

"'Like' may not be the right word. I'd say that I _favor _Toller Hammarskjöld more than any of the others. He's been very caring and attentive to the women he's known. Shoot, the women whom Pam interviewed all but gave testimonials!" Before Eric could protest, she continued, "He seems like a man who'll respect and cherish Kirs enough to give her space and steady her without breaking her spirit." She'd grinned. "There aren't many vampire males, much less kings, capable of that feat."

Eric's blue eyes narrowed and hardened. "Hammarskjöld is strong. He makes decisions and accepts responsibility for his words and actions—nevertheless he will have to prove himself to _me_."

"Double standard?" Sookie teased. "You didn't make Stan 'prove himself'."

"Stan loves Adele and she loves him. We know him well."

Sookie snorted. "Stan's strong and responsible too, but he can harbor one helluva a grudge. If life's a bitch, it seems like Toller slaps it and moves on. Still, Stan and Toller are like you where it counts. All of you make family and your extended family…your inangard—the center of your life. You set an example for your followers, and your children. You love us and keep us safe and secure. And when things go wrong, you do everything in your power to make it right."

Eric had done everything in his power, but he hadn't been able to make things truly right since the attack, especially for Kirsten. She was young for her age, impulsive and volatile— even more so without Del's steadying influence. It was simply too soon for Kirsten to take this step. Despite his blessing, despite Kirsten and Toller's soul bond, he would never had permitted their joining had it not been forced upon him. It was different with Del and Stan. Del was centered and disciplined, with a maturity far beyond her age. Stan was a friend and had been a part of Del's life for years—he understood her gifts and would respect her musical career. He would cherish her, play court to her and give her space to share her amazing talents with the world. Del would be a marvelous ambassador for his kingdom, a beautiful and gracious queen and a talented artist, and more--if she could return to them.

But Kirsten…Eric had given Kirsten over to Hammarskjöld at Freya's pleasure, but not without some fatherly words of "advice." Speaking softly and looking directly into Toller's eyes, Eric sent a firm warning.

"You have made a promise, son-in-law. My wife and my daughters are my heart and soul. This match tonight is the Lady's work, and I must obey. If I could, I would prevent it. Kirsten is far too young and willful in this life to fully understand her own heart. Know that I do not part with her willingly. She is more precious than kingdoms to me. You will bear the responsibilities of a husband and eventually, a father. A true man is the backbone of his family. There is no excuse for weakness."

"In taking her you are bound to _my _inangard, king or no, and I will hold you to your oath to honor and cherish her. I expect a ceremony befitting her rank and honor within a year, or if she is unhappy at the end of the handfast year, she will no longer be bound to you."

His voice dropped even lower but with no less threat. "I believe that you are an honorable man—I trust you. If you break my trust, if harm comes to her through you, I will hunt you down and tear you limb from limb before I stake you."

Toller eyes blazed into his—caught between offended honor and sincerity, "I keep my house in order. We will be wed and bonded with due ceremony. I would rather die than break my oath—I love your daughter, my lady wife and queen. I will protect my family and my inangard with all my might."

Then he relaxed a little and smiled. "Do you not know that Kirsten was mine long before she was given into your keeping? I swear upon my soul that I will cherish my wife, keep my family strong and pass on our peoples' history and traditions. Our children will be cherished as a gift of the gods." He smiled slightly. "Even if they require discipline from time to time."

Eric nodded. "I accept you oath and pledge my support in turn. I swear upon my soul that I will support you unless your oath to me is broken."

As a follower of the Aesir and Ásynjur, his oath was as powerful as his actions, and was to be taken at face value. The two men grasped wrists, then Eric willed himself to step aside, give his blessing, and entrust his beloved Kirsten to another man.

After the couple had flown off into the night, Sookie leaned against him wearily, her formidable wall of reserve nearly fractured. Eric held her as their guests said their goodbyes and the gythjas drenched the torches and departed. He was very glad that almost everyone was gone. He felt Sookie's exhaustion through their bond and saw it in her beautiful face. She felt his crushing sense of failure, though his face was as inscrutable as ever.

Her eyes fixed on him with concern. "_Eric, none of this is your fault."_

His mouth tightened almost imperceptibly. "_I failed to perceive the danger…to protect...Whose fault if not mine?"_

"_You can't see everything that's coming. It seems that even your Aesir can't see every twist in the road. Del and Kirs--Zee too-- they're linked to us. They'll never be beyond our love. Somewhere, somewhen, we'll get them back even if hell bars the way."_

"_Hella could you, know—bar the way—but Kirsten is in her favor."_

He shuddered to think what oath Kirsten had sworn to the Queen of Death to gain such favor.

"_The gods don't see all, but they see far._ _Freya saw you, my lover, over a century ago and wove a thread that drew us together. The Aesir and Ásynjur work their will for their own purposes."_

As Zeline and her Fae boyfriend Charles approached to say goodbye, Sookie adjusted her smile and took a deep breath. A quick embrace, then Charles poofed them away.

Finally only Eric, Sookie and Niall remained. Sookie searched the Fae Prince's face as Niall's green eyes met her blue.

"Del?"

Niall took her hand. "She's…gaining strength." He hesitated. "To recover fully and fulfill her wyrd, she needed more aid than our healers could provide."

Eric's voice was too quiet."What has become of Adele?"

"The Alföder summoned her as was his right--she was pledged to him at her rite of passage. She is with Him."

Niall opened his palm where the linked triangles of Adele's talisman, Odin's valknot, rested.

Sookie lifted it from his palm and pressed it against her chest. Fear, dark and cold, swept through her as Niall embraced her.

"Dear one, her physical body was nearly destroyed and her magics nearly depleted …"

Eric touched his forehead in deference to the Alföder as his eyes bored into Niall's. The web of wyrd that held his family had begun to feel like a spider's web and he suspected that Niall was one of the spiders.

He wondered whether the gods had foreseen the attack that had led Adele out of this world and into Odin's arms. Had Odin known that the attack would link Adele to the Aesir and to the Fae…and allowed the strands of wyrd to weave a deadly net about his gentle daughter?

Over a century before, his decision to return Aude to her own time had earned him the favor of the goddess Freya. His choice and her blessing were like heavy stones cast into deep water. The ripples of those choices had led to his mate, his daughters, and the child growing in Sookie womb.

But these blessings were not and had never been for his benefit alone. He took a bitter satisfaction in the realization that if he and his family were ensnared in the web of wyrd, the Aesir and Ásynjur were just as entangled.

Eric chose his words carefully. "Did this healing alter Adele?"

Sookie's voice was stony. "Vamps aren't the only one who can be turned. Was she 'turned' in some way—great-grandfather?"

"I cannot say, dear one. It's possible. In order to heal Adele, the Alföder strengthened elements that were always a part of her. In order to do this, some of his essence mingled with hers. Your daughter will return to you and she will be, in essence, Adele."

Eric's keen eyes showed a dangerous ferocity. Bitterness twisted his mouth "'In essence'… As I am 'in essence' Erikr, the human?"

Stark fear glittered in Sookie's eyes "How will she bear it?" How would they?

Niall's voice was resigned. He shook his head ruefully. "She lives. We will love and care for her. She will be great among the Fae and throughout the Nine Worlds. There was always a price attached to your children—you know that."

Eric felt Sookie beside him, trembling on the edge of explosion. Tears of rage filled her eyes.

"A price…because my children are objects—very, very valuable objects—and if something breaks or damages them— I guess you fix them with –god-glue…

and …that…is…supposed …to…give…us…hope?"

Niall laid a hand upon her shoulder. "Dear one…"

Sookie flung it off, her voice a hiss.

"You _knew _from the very beginning_…_You've _always _known that this day would come…that they'd be taken from us and used. And I thought…all this time I thought…. that you really loved Del and Kirs…for who they are and because they're a part of you --that their lives meant more than whatever the HELL it is that goes in Alfheim. After all, what good is Del to you if she is just a wounded part Fae? _I don't care_ about the honor done to her…I care about Del…only Del. "

She drew a ragged breath.

"So she is to have what—mates in three realms? Only one of whom she loves. You're tearing her to pieces with your love—then molding her the way you want. Del would bleed herself dry for you and nearly did when she was attacked, because she loves us more than she loves herself. _How will she bear this_?"

The prince's expression was implacable. "She will bear it because this is her destiny. Adele is strong—stronger than you can imagine. Yes, I knew that one day Adele would come into her own. It was a condition of her conception. But I would have shielded her with my own body had I known of the attack…not even the Aesir anticipated…so soon." He checked himself with difficulty.

Eric was absolutely still, a deadly fury held in check. "What is done cannot be undone. The Prince is no different from any ruler min älskare. A prince will sacrifice much, even his own blood to protect the interests of his realm." His eyes burned into Niall's. "Is this not so?"

Niall glared balefully at Eric . "And you are different?"

"I am a leader, a chief. My existence has always centered about my inangard. If I had wanted the kingship, I could have stretched out my hand and claimed it. But my family's best interests take precedence. And now…My sons are kings and my daughters queens. We will forge a great dynasty despite the web that ensnares us. Despite the weave, we will fight our way through. No, I will not blame you for your part in my children's making. Care for Adele. Love her. For if she comes to harm, I swear upon my soul, not even death itself will keep me from seeking my revenge."

Niall's eyes flashed. "Adele is flesh of my flesh. I do what is necessary out of love for our people. Adele is the 'svass bru,' the Beloved Bridge. Her fate is beyond our hands."

Sookie raised her chin and met his eyes, letting her fear and anger wash over him. "You have it wrong great-grandfather. You know Del's nature. Seeing her family and the world that she loves in danger—you know—_they_ know that she'll choose to sacrifice herself. But I never realized until the attack just what she would be called upon to do."

Eric's hand came down on her shoulders in restraint and comfort; she tensed under its weight and glared at the prince with burning reproachful eyes. "You love her. You _all _love her—humans, vampires, Fae, the Aesir. All of you love her to death! You would have protected Del and Kirsten too—though Kirsten's of much less use to you. But not just because you love them." Raw hurt gleamed in her eyes. "Del's too valuable to _waste." _

Niall's eyes widened with alarm. "Do you not think I would have prevented the attack and protected my own blood if I could?"

The prince met her accusing eyes without flinching and reached toward her. "Adele _is_ The Bridge. Her wyrd cannot be changed."

Sookie sighed and pressed both hand over her eyes. She felt drained, hollow. Back and white spots pulsed before her eyes as Eric swept her into his arms.

His nostrils flared. "Since that is the case, and my daughter will return to you, keep her safe until she returns to us. Or answer to me."

He lifted off into the night without looking back, scattering the little bats that wheeled and dipped like swallows in search of insects. A phalanx of guards followed them within moments.

Eric's anger and concern thrummed across the bond like a live wire. Sookie shifted uneasily, her head aching. Somewhere beneath that dark canopy of trees, Kirsten would become a woman with a new life and a new and powerful mate at her side. In some other world_, _Adele had been transformed by a god. Would she even recognize her gentle daughter in the woman who would someday return?

Her hand brushed her stomach where a new energy fluttered as gently as a butterfly's wing. Adele and Kirsten had moved beyond them—were even now defining their own lives. She would do everything in her power to help and support them, but for this time at least, they were beyond her reach and she must accept that. The baby growing within depended upon her and she must be strong for his sake.

Eric cradled her in his arms. "You're exhausted min älskare , and you need to eat before we rest. The Valhalla is closer—we'll…"

"No." Her voice was heavy with fatigue. "Take me home. We need to go home."

Home, where the girls had been born and raised. Home, where the fragrance of their scents still lingered.

The countryside swept by beneath them until Eric began his descent through the magical wards encompassing the estate. She could feel them press against her, recognize her, and then give way. Home. The dark maze of cornfields, teepee roots buttressing the thrusting stalks, the tangy sweet scent of fresh hay, a tinge of manure and compost, and the clean animal scent of horses. The high clear whinny of Eric's bay stallion Sámr cut through the humid moonless dark. Sookie closed her eyes and dozed, thinking of the girls climbing to the hayloft, their small arms flexing and long braids swinging as they scrambled up the ladder. Sunlight, streaming through dust motes, the placid stamp and snort of horses as they grazed, and Kirs and Del's laughter as they scaled the bales and threw hay at each other.

She heard Eric send their guards to rest. She was half asleep when he carried her to their room, gently undressed her, stripped quickly and climbed in beside her.

Even numbed by fatigue and emotional overload, she was heartbreakingly beautiful, her lips slightly parted and her hair a tousled golden mass beneath his hands. He laid his head on the velvet skin below her navel where their baby grew and could just make out the quick rhythm of a tiny heartbeat.

He sighed, closed his eyes, and prayed silently.

_Freya, Lady, luck bringer,_

_Your fingers are deft at untangling the snares of a gnarled wyrd—some of these tangles of your own making—_

Freya's voice, rich and sweet as sun warmed honey, filled his mind.

_I hear and answer. Our song of steel will part these snares. For the field of combat is as sweet as the battlefield of love. You and Kirsten are mine—blessed with my sweetness and my fury. You are molten flame, the sharp edge of a killing blade. In battle you and the seed of your loins will be unquenchable. Unstoppable. You are warrior and lover –you are pleasure and pain so deeply bound there is no separation. Seduce your enemies with your fury!_

He pulled Sookie to him, cupping her full white breast, and gave a little grunt of pleasure as his knee slipped between her thighs and she settled her round bottom firmly against him. She stirred next to him as he murmured "You are my dearest—my soul is in your keeping. I would be a shield against all that is to come for you, for our daughters..." He gently stroked the slight swell of her belly, "…and for our little one."

Sookie shivered. The goddess filled her and spoke out in a honey rich voice laced with magic."This one will be a son, fair and powerful. A warrior and a healer—a great mage." She gasped and shuddered frantically, blocking her mind against the intrusion and pushed back into him, undulating her hips like a belly dancer needing to lose herself in his body and immerse herself in him.

"Eric. I need you. Now."

He groaned as she twisted toward him with the mute ferocity of a castaway clutching at a floating spar—a fixed point in the endless swells of a perilous sea.

His voice was a broken whisper.

"Oh my love…my soul."

A single red tear painted a path down his cheek and she traced its course with her tongue, taking his blood into her--sharing his pain. Her hand twisted in his hair and her hips bucked against him urging him to take her hard and deep and anchor himself within her as she anchored herself about him. She arched upwards to take all of him as he sank himself into her, again and again, riding to her spurs until he cried out, shuddered in ecstasy and convulsed against her. Afterward, he curled his body around hers and kissed the pulse hammering in her throat as sleep carried them away from the terrible storm that rocked them to their souls.

**_8888_**

Surrounded by an immense and passionate intelligence that called himself her mate, Adele floated in a place beyond time and space in what the ancients called the realm of the gods. Midgard, Stan, her blood called to her and she could feel them –distant yet drawing her across the proto-fabric of space and time.

She was an intricately connected bodiless web of molecules stretched and brought into a fourth dimension beyond her old experiences, words or concepts. In this place where she was and was no longer Adele Northman, their essences flowed like rivers, whorled, coalesced momentarily and became one. She asked the silent presence that encompassed her--

_Are you the one who commands the waves of my oceans? That knows when each breath is drawn? Who compels me to change and demands account of my dreams, my hopes and fears? Are you the one that weaves me into this mighty place where I am no more than a mote drifting in a wilderness of space and time?_

The being know as Odin answered as others had before. _I am. You are. We are._

Midgard and the nine worlds connected to it spread beneath her, layer upon layer. First the physical—earth, air, fire, and water. Then the eight realms—barely glimpsed spheres—and then the world of spirit. She drifted upon the shoals of a vast multiverse feeling its currents. Learning its vast expanse.

_All creatures are connected through the great web of wyrd. The spark of their sprit binds them to the infinite. Some beings exist beyond the finality of Midgard. We are guardians—but some of us have taken a darker path. Loki would seize this power and mold the worlds as he pleases. His minions have been about their master's business for some time now. Order and balance are disturbed and the worlds tremble on the brink of destruction._

Her eyes fixed upon the tiny speck of blue and white, the physical world, as it turned slowly beneath her, finite and lovely, teeming with life in the vast ocean of space. She perceived ley lines and other paths of energy blazing in an emerald network across Midgard's surface.

Thunderstorms flashed over North America and Scandinavia. Lightning was everywhere, illuminating the clouds as it arced from one to another.

The storm was large and very spread out. Blue-white balls of light filled with powerful elementals burst in auroras and arcs while jagged red-orange forks crackled toward Midgard's surface. Occasionally a city went by, its lights a bright haze against a backdrop of livid and fiery flashes.

Inky black space draped over Midgard's horizon. The Milky Way rose up from behind the Earth in a glowing white path--a hundred million suns flaring across the dark rims of countless planets, an inviting lacework of nebulae and the dense dark matter that led to universes beyond her comprehension. The stars, some white, some red, some orange, all of different sizes, wrapped Midgard's horizon in a blanket of fire.

Their light surrounded her, each a sun or planet, like and unlike her own.

Such breathtaking beauty! Such distance! In her current form, she had no human tears. Yet she wept for each being—alone and yet linked--upon this fertile mote floating through space and time.

Everyone she'd ever known, ever loved, all the lives that her human ancestors had lived was bound into Midgard's soil, its air, its water.

All that she'd loved, every species she knew, was linked in some way to that blue and white speck, and the eight other worlds bound to it.

Beyond the physical world she perceived a shimmering network of energy lines and power centers—and beyond that again, supporting the multiverse and the fabric of existence across nine worlds, Yggdrasil—like a great tree—its mighty tap roots and branches binding the worlds together.

_Look again beloved._

Three mighty female beings, the Nornir sat at the foot of Yggdrasil, weaving the threads of countless decisions and observations into the vast web connecting the beings of all nine worlds and setting an order and rhythm that even the gods must obey.

Floating in a vast cosmic arena that cradled countless worlds, Adele was transfixed by the folly of human conceits.

How small in this great enveloping multiverse was their imagined self-importance—the wars, raids, genocides, angers, furies--the daily petty acts of each and every being.

She perceived Midgard's sickness as a grey aura—felt its miasma like a fever. The elements were tainted by human greed, ignorance, and violence—the precursors to _Ragnarok__._ What forces in the nine worlds would save them from the great enveloping darkness? What could she do to hold back such a cataclysm?

_Midgard is the anchor to which we and the eight worlds are bound. Loki_—_and others who seek a new order_—_will break these bonds and mold the nine worlds as he wills. He manipulates the folly of human conceits, the pride and greed of supernaturals and humans. It is given to us to preserve and cherish this speck our home in the vastness of Utgard_

_What can I do against such evil?_

_You will be who you were meant to be beloved. You will defend those you love and your love will give us victory—Svass Bru—Beloved Bridge. You needed to perceive this through new eyes, beloved. To grasp what is at stake—Midgard-- preserved and cherished or destroyed and lost forever. This is where we will make our stand. But before we battle, I will give you what you most desire. For you are powerful enough now to endure the journey. _

She longed for home—for her family of flesh, blood, and bone. She longed for Stan.

_But how can I explain... I'm not a virgin…the demon took me...and now you and I…_

A ripple of laughter, bright waves of dancing light.

_You are again intact in your physical form. When we came together…mated…it was not as humans mate._ _I took you in another form to make you a part of what I am. Your jealous vampire mate will be the first lover to claim your maidenhead, though he will not be the first to claim your maidenhood._

She closed her eyes and pictured moonlit hill country carpeted with bluebonnets, Stan's muscular arm about her waist holding her gently against him, her head resting against the strong, muscled planes of his broad chest. Then she heard his deep warm drawl, "You are the heart and soul of me Del."

_I want to go to Stan._

_Do you love him?_

_With all of my heart and soul!_

_To go to him, you must use __seiðr magic __to project part of your essence across the fabric of space and time. I will permit such a journey only once, because it is your heart's desire. . _

_How will I find Stan?_

_Call to him and if he is truly the one who is yours, he will hear and call to you. When you hear and feel his call—I will permit you to go. It is a dangerous journey--the enemy will sense your presence. I will not risk you unless his love for you pulls you to him. … You may only remain for moments on Midgard…Then you must return_

_People I know and love have died and battled for me. I'm not afraid anymore. I have to go back for their sakes. I have to go back to be what I was for the people who love me and to be what I am. I __**am**__ The Beloved Bridge and our enemies will fear me._

_Then focus upon your heart's desire and your king will draw you back to him._

She gathered herself and thought the small familiarities of Stan's body, his scent, his wide generous mouth brushing against hers. the planes of his face. A shock rippled through her like icy water on bare skin, striking a chord that resounded in every part of her being.

She focused on Midgard turning slowly beneath her, the blue bite of the Gulf of Mexico, and the broad sweep of Texas. Then she felt his call and tethered her mind and heart to Stan.

Stars and planets flashed past her as she plummeted like a Valkyrie—riding the charged currents of Midgard's atmosphere until her being became one with the lightening.

King Stanislaus threw himself on his bed, fighting the drifting tangle of thoughts that led downward to dreams and the dark subterranean stillness of a vampire's daily rest.

His eyes still registered the hilly landscape outside his tinted window; the place where he had pledged himself to Adele as the night breeze sighed and the moon shimmered upon her innocent beauty. Now that landscape was blue-black and mysterious to the west, dove grey in the east where dawn hung just below the horizon.

He squeezed his eyes shut, but the staggering knowledge of her violation—the tide of loss and grief he had shared with her before their bond was severed--overwhelmed him. He had to continue. Even if she could not return to him he would find her enemies, destroy them, and then die gladly. He ached for her—all of her mind, body, and soul. He reached out with all of his longing, seeing her sweet face.

_Del, my heart, my love, where are you?_

Transient warmth brushed against his face. A wave of immense power—enough to cause a brief surge in the security lights, then the soft brush of Del's lips.

_Stan. __I'm here…but I can't stay…not yet._

He inhaled deeply and pushed himself upright. Del's unique fragrance—the perfume of roses and fresh spring breezes on a dew drenched meadow—surrounded him. He reached out sensing the warmth of her presence.

"My love! You're well—you're here! Please…"

The air stirred like wind passing through thistle down.

Del was before him, radiant with a light that did not burn him, her gossamer hair drifting on currents of power. Her fern green eyes glowed with loved for him.

He sensed a tautness—a vibration of strain. His throat moved as he swallowed.

"You were dying—I was so afraid Del."

A sudden fear gripped him. He could see the wall faintly through her glowing skin.

Then she laughed, shook her head, and wrapped her arms around him.

_I'm alive but the rest of me is anchored someplace else. Stan—I had to come to tell you that I'm healed, and that I love you more than anyone, anywhere._

Her beautiful eyes held his pleading—her eyes bright with unshed tears.

_You have to believe that…no matter what… I've crossed time and space so that you'll know that you're the one I want and if there could be just one…it would be you…I'd give everything I have…risk everything so that I can come back…if you'll have me…_

"Del, my own, look at me." He touched his chest. "Put your hand here."

A touch of warmth. And the slight charge of power as she laid her hand above his silent heart. What do you feel? Faintly but surely, a vibration, then a slow steady rhythm beneath her hand that faltered, then ceased when she took her hand away.

Del, my love, your magic changed me…will probably change me much more. Can you love me knowing that?

_Oh God—of course Stan! I love you—no matter what…_

He held her gaze. Brushed his finger across the ephemeral shimmer of her soft cheek.

"But you don't trust me to love you…no matter what. Do you think I could ever stop loving you? I loved you knowing there would be another man—that I have to share you. I hate that! I'd kill him if I could. But you are worth that price. And if you risked yourself to come to me tonight, do you think I wouldn't risk as much for you? Adele Northman you are mine. I claim you. What lies behind us and what lies before us are nothing compared to what lies within us right now. Reach out through our bond--our bond that's changing me bit by bit."

Del reached out and all of the hope and love he had clung to flowed into her as her love and strength flowed into him. He took a deep shuddering breath, raised his head.

I have lived so many human lifetimes, but I never knew love until I loved you. It's a feeling I've never before felt and I don't think I could ever feel it with anyone else. It draws me, lifts me up, and possesses me. You've changed me and I'm glad, because I don't want to remember what it's like to be without you.

She traced the lines of his face, the high broad forehead with its thick chestnut brows, the broad plains of his cheek, the straight proud nose, dark thick lashes and hazel eyes that had seen so much of life and death. She wanted desperately to stay, but her body was being drawn back. With great effort, she resisted the tug.

_I have to go now. …but I'll return. I've been given power—a lot of power—but the only thing that counts is that you are in my heart, my soul, my flesh. I don't know when I'll come back to you, but I will come back._

It was almost dawn. Beyond the specially tinted windows the eastern horizon shifted from pearl to rose, but it was Adele whose radiance shone upon Stan, filling his world with light.

_**8888**_

_Did you like my version of the bloody tear from DITF ?_

_Thank you so very much for your support and encouragement!_

_**Your reviews are my inspiration, me darlins', so…Mmmm?**_


	17. Chapter 18

A/N: First off, I'm pimping **The Age of Eric** competition. **Click on the links on my profile page** and read wonderful stories by talented writers featuring your favorite Viking and his exploits across the centuries.

Now, did y'all think DSR had been hurled into the endless Void of Ginungagap? It's back if you want it. ** Let me know if you want DSR to continue, or if it's time to take it down**. And BTW, before a group of TB writers came up with generations of Weres devoted to an ancient evilo—I wrote Fenris Corporation devoted to an even more ancient evilo. Fenrir was Loki's son, a monstrous wolf (hence the connection to Weres). Fenrir is foretold to kill Odin during Ragnarök.

_DSR speak: -_"_Jävlar!_" (Literally "_devils_") is used in phrases like "_Jävlar, jag slog mig på tummen!_" Which translates as "_Oh f*ck! I hit my thumb!"_

Surtr is a fire jötunn—a major figure during the events of Ragnarök; he will battle the Aesir, and afterward engulf the Earth in flames.

_Link to song below…_ www (dot) youtube (dot) com/ watch?v=RTj9HvqKjik&feature =related

_**As always, thanks AmaZen & FDM for your great beta work and for your support.**_

**Lost in the neon twilight****  
****I feel my nature waking inside****  
****Would you look towards me?****  
****Would you dare to enter the****  
****threshold to my mind…**

**Lost is but a dream fading****  
****And soon I'm calling out again****  
****Would you come to release me?****  
****Would you tear the icy chains from my ****skin?****  
**

_**Raven Night**_** by **_**Hagalaz' Runedance**_

Dark Storm Rising

CH 18

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From the warded highland lodge of Iceland's King Valur Sigurdsson, Sewell Ulswater followed each sinuous twist of lava snaking down Mt. Hekla's southern face. He pursed his lips. It was almost inconceivable that he, a Fae lord, was the exiled guest of a hulking barbarian bloodsucker. Someday his enemies would pay for this ignominy as well as his imprisonment in Ginungagap and his current exile from his rightful place as lord of Western Alfheim. When his maser came into his own, he would be the emperor of Alfheim. The worlds would be wilder. Humans would no longer overrun Midgard. The Mother would be cleansed, and human vermin would be restored to their rightful place—insignificant hunters and gatherers, simple farmers. Only the enlightened elite, Loki's chosen, would rule and know luxury.

The Fae would hunt again through the wild woods of Alfheim and Midgard. Humans would once again recognize their power and fear and worship the Fae as gods of nature. Ah! To feel their terror as they crept past, barrows, cairns, and hollow hills—_knowing _in their marrow that they were truly haunted. Humans would again cower before the thunder of the Wild Hunt and the music of Fae hunting horns.

Vengeance would be delicious. He closed his eyes luxuriating in his vision of Brigant, Northman and Hammarskjöld groaning in some reeking pit amid the fires of Muspelheim—exiled as he had been from all that they loved, haunted by memories of how Ulswater's forces had slaughtered their people and how Loki had broken their women and given them to Sigurdsson and the Dark Elves to be raped and butchered before their eyes.

What joy, to torture them endlessly! It would take years, a century perhaps, for the despair to build. He'd flay them, then roast them until their skin blackened and cracked- then he'd skewer them with spikes touched with just enough iron to sicken and burn Brigant and a hint of silver for the vampires; enough to keep them in agony but not enough to end their existences. He groaned and licked his lips. How they would beg for oblivion. He would dig Niall Brigant's fern green eyes out of their sockets and watch them turn to dust.

A Dark Elf attendant carrying a decanter of mead and a crystal goblet broke his revelry.

"Forgive my interruption Lord. The king sends his regards and hopes that you will enjoy his hospitality."

Mead! Sigurdsson knew that a bottle of Krug or Dom Perignon would have been more to his liking. Was this another not too subtle reminder that a refugee must take what he was offered? Reluctantly, Ulswater swallowed his pride. In time Sigurdsson would learn his true place. Currently ,the vampire's territory was crucial to their master's plan. The vampire might be a cunning brute, but Ulswater was a spider-waiting, vigilant, and lethally patient. As the elf poured, Ulswater murmured, "Your master is too kind. Please convey my thanks for such bountiful hospitality."

He must tred warily. The Bound One attracted cunning, brutal survivors and Sigurdsson had been His for over a millennium. Besides, his lodge was near the great portal of the Huldufόlk, the hidden Dark Elves. Even in this day and age no native born Icelander would willingly approach a site so notoriously strange and perilous to humans. As if in agreement, Mt Hekla rumbled and belched lava.

How appropriate, the renegade Fae Lord thought, that the shades of destruction were the shades of lust - burnt umber, carnelian, scarlet, with a hint of tangerine and coral along the base. The magnificent plume rising from its fountain of fire held all the shades of a soul-brilliant white, innocent dove, burnt umber, and the dull dead blue black of the crude oil coating Midgard's half dead oceans. A steady wind pushed the ash plume up into the jet stream. Grey ash fell-coating, choking, clogging, and stopping, well, everything. Soon it would cover all of northern Europe.

What a simply splendid beginning of the END for humans, supernaturals, any intelligent being not affiliated with Fenris Corporation or its franchises. Powerful Were leaders would certainly survive. Generation after generation, Fenrir's Weres had passed on their devotion to Loki, Fenrir's shape shifter sire, and to Fenrir-the first and greatest werewolf.

Their devotion had made them rich and powerful. Still, a world without subjects was hardly worth ruling. The hardy would survive, they always did. They would be the breeding stock for new worlds. If they desired to continue, they would obey their new lords in the new order. He took a certain proprietary pride in Midgard's chaos. Many hands had carried out his master's plan, but it was he, Sewell Ulswater, who had helped set the wheels in motion and overseen the evolution for over two centuries ago.

Although Loki's devotees and the Fenrir Weres had existed since the first Were pups were whelped, Fenris Corporation was his brain child and his greatest gift to The Bound One. Since the first factory belched smoke, various incarnations of Fenris Corporation had built factories, made poison gases, controlled huge interests in the oil, and munitions industries, satellites, and nanotechnology.

Quietly over the course of two centuries, Fenris Corporation had installed its loyal Weres in choice positions throughout Midgard until Fenris, a shadowy major shareholder in so many industries, owned politicians, spiritual and military leaders and entertainment moguls.

The Trickster was the master of many puppets—manipulating and dazzling Midgard's populace, as he had once dazzled the Aesir, until his cleverly wrought net ensnared the entire world. This in itself proved that, even bound, Loki was craftier than Odin guessed.

Odin, the far seeing, had recognized Loki's worth and his danger to the Aesir. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, indeed. Loki had made Odin laugh... and curse. The All Father knew too much of Loki's nature not to keep him close. By mingling his blood with the The Trickster's in a bond of brotherhood, the far-seeing All Father set in motion the chain of events that led to Ragnarök . Why would he doom himself so?

Ulswater smiled broadly. When Loki destroyed The Aesir and their followers, The Brigant Fae and their mongrel Northman kin would pay the ultimate price for the death of Ulswater's kin, his own exile upon this dying worm world and for his imprisonment amidst the frigid winds and endless gloom of Ginungagap. His eyes smouldered with longing for the day of revenge. The sight of the molten serpent slithering toward humanity warmed his heart. Soon, very soon, he would free his master and the raging tide of Ragnarok, the doom of the gods, would be unleashed. Alfheim would be his as a prelude to his master's advent.

Global warming set the stage for the new order his master would impose. Rising oceans claimed countless islands and coastlands, droughts swept across once fertile farmlands, super storms pounded already fragile coastlines, and winters more frigid than any experienced since the ice age paralyzed temperate zones. Mother Earth shifted restlessly causing tsunamis and mudslides as an unprecedented number of volcanoes across The Ring of Fire spewed ash into the air.

Thanks to Ulswater's efforts at the behest of his master, global warming was firmly woven into the great web of wyrd. His enemies among the Aesir and Asynjer, and especially the Brigants and the Northman clan would pay dearly for his torment and the death of his kinsmen and women. He leaned against a great boulder, relishing the sight of grayish white plumes cascading over Mt. Hekla under the shimmering curtain of Northern Lights.

A deep tolling snigger rang through his bones.

_You're overdue for a visit my lad._

The Presence surrounded him, dragged him through a portal and into the howling void between the worlds until he knelt on a cold cavern floor in the lowest world. His gorge rose as he took in the swirling sulfurous fumes. He might have knelt for hours-days. Time had no meaning here. His knees were bruised and he ached to the marrow of his bones. Loki's merciless eyes regarded him. Cynical. Ancient. Bleaker than the black night of a Nordic winter. A huge serpent poised above Loki's head while Sigyn, Loki's loyal and silent wife, held her bowl steady. _Plink hiss Plink hiss Plink_…

Ulswater shuddered.

"Master! All that you have ordered I have arranged..."

_All? You fool – you have lost the women. Do you not know that those women are the key? The web of wyrd shifts and begins a new pattern. The Aesir and Asynjer's power now hangs by a single thread: the Northman women. Their beings hold the Aesir's last magical bonds. Once those bonds are destroyed, the last of the Aesir and Asynjer's binding magics will be loosened. Then, I will break free of Odin's chains. The frost and fire Jotuns will rise with the dark elves. At my command they will break_ _Agar's wall and destroy the Aesir and Asynjer. A new world will arise. My world. And in it you will be the emperor of Alfheim._ _IF the bonds are broken. But t__he vampire Northman must be defeated first. He is twice-bound to the Aesir and sworn to uphold them. _

"The Northman women are only temporarily lost to us Lord. I swear..."

Loki emitted a pained sigh.

_Temporarily ..'lost?' THAT's rich! Walk canny child. I love games. I am, after all, The Trickster. That being the case, I do love a good game of high stakes, especially when the worlds hang in the balance. Stop biting your lip! You death is of no use to me. Still, your failure to capture the Northman women may seal your doom._

Ulswater licked dry lips. His breath rattled in and out like dead leaves in a cold wind.

"What are your orders Lord?"

_Think of the worlds as chess boards. Our opponents' queens MUST be taken. Lure the Fae daughter from the Brigant haven. Capture their lovely mother, and her sister and her vampire mate will follow. Bring these women here very soon or...very soon...you will know the difference between an Immortal and an Eternal... _

And then Lord?

A flicker of genuine pleasure lit Loki's eyes. _Then, dear lad, the games will truly begin!_

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Sookie worked through the tangle of tomato vines and pole beans methodically plucking ripe tomatoes, and snipping the beans which clambered and twisted up their poles with rampant abandon. She straightened, slid the basket's handle into the crook of her arm, rested her hand on the taut curve of her stomach and smiled. Like a sprout in the sunlight, her child's consciousness stirred and reached toward her, as her mind touched the miraculous life within her. On the brink of war, she wondered how she could shelter this baby when she had failed to protect her girls. She had to find a way.

Zeline touched her arm. "OK. Tante?"

Sookie kissed Zeline's cheek. "Just thinking, honey."

Zeline hugged her aunt. "I won't tell you not to worry, but it's OK to take a time-out, Better to worry about Japanese beetles and leaf rot."

Sookie grinned and picked a beetle from a leaf. "At least this enemy's puny. "

After Jason's death, Zeline's shifter mother vanished without even attending his memorial service. A friend in the shifter community had stopped by to deliver a message that "maman" had "gone to ground" and that she expected the Fae and the Northman's to look after Zeline and "fix this damn mess."

The look of weary acceptance in Zeline's eyes had broken Sookie heart. Of course, they'd insisted that Zeline remain with them. Although she exasperated him almost as much as Kirsten and,_ he_ felt- set a poor example of modesty for his daughters, Eric was genuinely fond of Zeline and formally adopted her as his daughter according to the customs of his people. Now, apart from King Stan, Eric had gathered their remaining family onto the safety of the estate.

Even Toller had consented to stay and help protect the women—especially Kirsten. He had his work cut out for him. He was still at his rest—well separated from Kirsten's room—as if that would stop Kirsten. No. Troth, loyalty. oaths and honor kept them apart within her father's walls ." Kirsten had insisted upon patrolling the estate with Brigant Fae and Weres loyal to the Prince. She accompanied Fae kinsmen while the sun shone; there was little the vampire males could do to stop her short of tying her down—which Eric had briefly considered as a viable option. The daytime woods swarmed with Brigant Fae and Weres loyal to the Prince and sworn to the Aesir. So Kirsten accompanied her Fae kinsmen. She was a vigilant, capable fighter and even though Eric never said as much, he was very proud of her.

Before they were born Eric had proclaimed "Love and fear. Everything the father of a family says must inspire one or the other."

She'd snorted. "Oh, _really!"_

He'd raised an eyebrow. "It worked well with my Viking children."

She'd laughed, "They were little. Just wait till this pair's about fourteen—then they'll inspire fear in _you_."

And they had inspired fear—fear for their safety, their honor, their status in three worlds—they also inspired the deepest love. They would both give up their lives for their girls. But now she had to protect another precious life.

There were times, especially with Kirsten, when she'd wished they'd move past the latest drama and just grow up. Now that all three girls were slipping away from them she wished that she could turn back to those exasperating, enjoyable innocent years. But there was no turning back. Time, at least in this world, was irreversible. Their girls had become women very quickly. Even now they walked their own paths. She and Eric would always love and cherish them and fight for and beside them, in hope that a time would come when they could be secure, whole and happy.

Her greatest guilt was her failure to shelter Adele and Kirsten. She would never forgive herself for what Del had gone through—was going through now. She had wanted them to have years before their status and natures overwhelmed their links to the human world. She'd hoped for years of college, dating, hanging out with friends Supernaturals with centuries of life ahead, they were far too young—to be wives, rulers, mothers. But they were unique, three natured, tied to the Aesir through magical bonds. There was nothing "normal' about their girls. Or Zeline.

Eighteen years ago, when they had married, she and Eric had pledged their "troth," their trust, loyalty, and faith, to each other and to the beings who blessed their marriage. That troth bound Kirsten and Adele to the Aesir, fixing them within a web of events and choice that Eric's people called the web of wyrd.

Every time they complained about some minor misfortune in front of their father, Eric would quote, despite their eye-rolling, "As the horse bears the rider, so one's troth bears one's fate. You hand the Norns the thread that you have made and they weave it into the great web. "

Eric hadn't broken troth with his family, but he felt as if he had failed them all. She'd be a liar if she said that she didn't understand. She felt as if she'd failed as well. Now, he was twice as vigilant. After they made love, he'd slip on his battle gear and slept with a seax under his pillow and a spatha inches from his hand. She'd had enough training in the Northern traditions, not to mention direct experience of the Aesir and Asynjer, to have a sense that prophesy that foretold Ragnarok had been viewed from a distance. Like any distant view, lots of small things went unobserved.

That's where their choices might change the big picture just enough to save their skins. She thought of a Frost poem she'd studied, "two paths diverged in a yellow wood, and I—I took the one less traveled by." Could a person perhaps change the way an event would happen—if not the event itself? If a world's war such as Ragnarok was somehow woven into the fabric of the worlds, could it be postponed, even prevented indefinitely? Could the very nature of the conflict be changed by the choices she, Eric, Adele, and any number of other individuals made?

No. She could not- _would not_ passively accept the inevitability of Ragnarok and the death of everyone and everything that she loved. This world was toxic—terrorists wars, flood, famines, senseless extinctions brought about by cruelty and greed. Still, there were good people—humans and supernaturals–who sought to shift this momentum away from destruction. Ragnarok. Armageddon. Curtains. It didn't matter what one called it. It was coming—unless…

She closed her eyes and reached out searching for a passage through the barriers between the worlds. Even when Del was half way across the world— Eric, Del and Kirs had always been reassuringly present as her heartbeat. Even though Del was beyond her reach, some primal urge as old as motherhood made her try to reach her child again and again.

_Del—baby? Are you there?_

Silence. Absence.

Not the absence of death, but distance and an ache that was almost as great. She knew in her heart that her Del had been altered beyond the life that they had shared before the attack. Bound to the Aesir and the Brigants since her conception, was this the path gentle Del had been destined to walk—like a lamb to a ritual slaughter. Sookie shook her head, cupped her hand around the base of a ripe tomato and twisted gently. No. She couldn't believe that their lives were so fixed. They weren't puppets! Choice had to come into play.

Perhaps it all came down to loyalty and love after all. The best choices she'd made, like falling in love with a big stubborn Viking, hadn't been the most logical…or sane for that matter. But she'd known in her heart that they were good and right.

Speaking of choices, her Brigant Fae escort was restless—bored with the task of guarding a pregnant woman while she gardened. Standing here swatting mosquitoes wasn't the choice they would have made if given an option. She nodded at the commander. "Sorry to keep you. I know you'd like to go before the vamps rise. I'm almost done."

The commander inclined her head. "We're here to guard you vampires or no. The Prince warded us. Our scent is masked—unless we bleed."

Sookie wiped her palms against her shorts, "Which I hope doesn't happen. No. I'll go in then ya'all can go home." Or wherever it was Faes on patrol went for the night.

After a month of calm, they were spoiling for a fight. Zeline was tossing green tomatoes with preternatural speed and cracking them in two with her whip. At least she wasn't pelting her Fae boyfriend with green tomatoes

"Merde!" Zeline slapped her tanned shoulder. "The little bitches love Fae blood. Hey, Charles, how come you're not being sucked dry?"

Her lover laughed. "The new sealant the prince developed keeps them off of us. You and your aunt are the next best thing. They want your blood as much as that dumb Cajun vamp I'm going to stake."

Zeline blew Charles a kiss. "No worry beau—you've got mon coeur…"

Charles smirked, "As well as other choice bits…"

Aoife, the Fae commander, scowled. "Enough! Stand to attention! Zeline, that whip is for enemy necks, not tomatoes."

"Do you not feel it? Something crosses the deep currents beneath the wards… the wards are supposed to be impenetrable…but …"

"Yes." Sookie whispered. Sookie touched the baby's reassuring presence again, then Kirsten patrolling the woods with Brigant Fae. She smiled. Eric was just beginning to stir toward consciousness. A whisper like an embrace.

_Lover _

The estate's elementals shimmered on the borders of her consciousness. Usually invisible and barely noticeable, they were uneasy—Adele would have understood them…perhaps she should ask the Fae whether they felt the sprites' unrest.

_Missing Del… The elementals are uneasy… the squadron leader's uneasy…but she can't pinpoint why…_

She felt his concern and frustration. —his struggle to rise before the sun set and come to her.

"_Jävlar! __Elementals are like canaries in a coal mine. That's why I let them stay on my land. Something isn't right…Check again lover!_

The insects' staccato faded as she closed her eyes and focused beyond the wards, beyond her breath and heartbeat scanning the currents of power that netted the estate for the slight ripple which signified the presence of a portal between the worlds. A faint electric current tinged with red and black coursed through her.

_Something's out there. Faint, can't place it_

She glanced worriedly at the setting sun and swatted at the swarming mosquitoes.

Sookie took a deep breath. A faint stench of sulfur rose from damp earth. The small hairs on her neck rose as a wave of power rolled over them. "Zee… something's coming…" and began to channel

Zeline's nostrils flared just as the Fae tensed and turned in unison toward a spot directly behind Sookie.

"Tante. Run to the house. Now!"

Sookie gripped her knife as a furnace blast of dark magic struck them.

"No time."

The stench of sulfur overwhelmed the pungent scentof uprooted, trampled plants. A Fae yelled "Cinn dorcha. How…" as the ground tilted and heaved.

Dark elves in battle gear boiled out of the ground. They moved in unison casting a thick murky fog over the garden and fields until sound was muffled and it was difficult to discern the attackers. Both races were tall and beautiful. But their energies and skin tones were quite different and it was difficult to tell a dark elf male from a female. Except for their leaders' spiked black hair, their bald heads were tattooed with runes and magic symbols.

Tall, wiry, and ominously silent they swarmed around the knot of Alfheim Fae slashing and jabbing with obsidian blades covered with glowing hex signs. Their greenish livid skin and amber eyes shone with the phosphorescence of the underworld as they conjured and hurled livid balls of searing death.

Zeline channeled hard, uncurled her bull whip and jumped in front of Sookie screaming a war cry–moving, slipping, rolling, and striking. Crack! Sizzling with blue-white energy her bull whip, snaked around a dark elf's neck. She grunted and tugged. Its head flew from its cauterized neck.

Sookie half crouched for battle. A low, resonant growl built in her throat heavily muscled dark elf, lunged toward her then staggered backward as she slashed at its throat. With a sound like a ripe melon, a Fae club opened its skull, spattering blood and brains across the uprooted plants and splattering her face and torso with hot dark blood smelling sharply of iron and sulfur.

Sookie fought with a focused primal rage that was as old as motherhood—intent on killing whatever threatened her young. In the heartbeat before her intent fixed upon her enemies, she felt Kirsten barreling toward her from the far edge of the estate a good 15 miles as the vampire flies—heard her confusion and fury as she desperately called to Toller.

_What the Fuck! Dark Elves. Toller wake the fuck up. Garden! Kill!_

Sookie's own fury ripped across the bond hammering Eric from sleep. In seconds he was fully alert and by her side. His eyes blazed into hers as his hands ran over her face and body quickly checking for injury.

_Unhurt?_

She nodded.

_Good. Stay back. Protect!_

Her lips tightened. _Nowhere's safe!_ _Won't let them hurt the baby. I'll fight!_

His fangs lanced down in a gruesome battle display. He ducked and shielded her with his body as a searing blaze of dark current shot over their heads, then gave her a "little" shake that rattled her teeth.

_For once woman, heed me. Stay the FUCK back!_

Panic surged through her. _Kirsten!_

_I ordered her not to come…She is stubborn—but safe._

Sookie scorched a dark elf to carbon.

_Like hell she is! Never could keep Kirs from a fight._

Eric grunted as he broke a dark elf's neck and hurled the body into the ranks behind it. _ No time to deal with her now. You get back! _

He grabbed Sookie and swung her into the center of a knot of Brigant Fae.

Without turning around he yelled, "Honor your oaths to your Prince. Defend her with your lives."

Wordless rage and a desperate need to kill and ensure his mate and child's survival thundered through him as he roared and rocketed into the dense swarm of the dark elves. He was death–a deadly blur and flash of fang rending and roaring with fury.

A brilliant portal opened in the air above them and a phalanx of Brigant archers peppered the enemy with iron tipped arrows, seconds before Brigant warriors materialized, whirling like dervishes in a deadly dance of death. Eric roared. Severed heads, limbs and torsos rained down upon the dark elf host until their flaking corpses piled in heaps and still they poured out of the portal.

Sprays of crimson gore fell like rain through the murk as Eric slammed into a knot of Dark elves. The air stank of rotten eggs and hot metal as another waves of dark elves boiled out of the ground hammering the phalanx of Fae defending Sookie. Suddenly, the ranks parted slightly as a huge thickly muscled creature advanced across the bodies of the dead and dying—paying no attention to their shrieks and groans as they shifted into dust.

Soon all noise ceased. Eric maneuvered himself to the front, his face impassive. The creature loomed over him—shrouded in sooty mist and ominous silence. He gripped his spatha and battle ax and met the flat stare of an ancient monster from his boyhood -a creature from the fiery lower world whose presence in the upper world presaged Ragnarök. Its skin was blood red. Furnace hot. A nimbus of flames crowned its head as it studied him with slat opalescent eyes.

Its deep voice boomed, "Stand aside. You know what I am and from whence I come. The days of the Aesir are numbered."

The Fae gripped their weapons, their eyes glowing.

Sookie pushed against the Fae as the leader hissed. "Stay back. It is a child of the fire jötunn Surtr—bane of the Aesir–from the fiery realm of Múspell. Never in all the ages have I beheld one in the realms of light… "

The shaggy, hulking creature regarded them with ancient cunning, then grinned displaying shark-like teeth.

"I bear a message from the Bound One. The Doom of the Gods approaches. Soon my father will battle the Aesir. The flames that he brings forth will engulf his enemies. Give me the woman you guard and you will be spared by the Bound One's oath

Eric's voice cut the silence. "Bear your master this message–We will plight no troth with the Trickster."

The fire jötunn shrugged. "Some oaths are best shattered. Our forces have blocked the Fae portals. No more allies will come to your aid. There's nowhere to run. You are surrounded. You will all die and I will still take the woman."

The jötunn surged forward. Fangs bared, Eric slammed against him knocking him to the ground. Muscles knotted, and two pairs of powerful hands and fangs tore at each other, grunting as they countered lightening fast gouges, slices and punches. Blood ran down Eric's face from a vicious gash above his eyebrow. The dark elves hooted.

"Surtr will drain the vampire."

Sookie fought to escape the wall of Fae and reach her mate but they held fast. "What's wrong? Why can't he heal? "

The commander answered. "The jötunn is Surtr's get. Its saliva carries heavy magics. The vampire's wound cannot easily heal—The Dark One is right. If enough of it enters your mate and the wounds are deep…he will bleed to his final death!" Sookie hammered on the Fae, "Then let me go to him!"

"I cannot. He is fighting for your life…not his own. Do you think he will thank me for giving you up?"

A falcon's shriek—Kirsten's war cry. Damn the girl! Hammarskjöld would have to deal with her-

Eric skin smoked and burned where it touched the jötunn . He clamped down biting deep into a thick pulsing vein. He tore at its throat faster than it could heal. His vision blurred but the poison of its blood was weakening him. He was dimly aware of Zeline's whip snaking onto the demon, and Fae and Dark Elves surging about him. His mate's scream as a dark elf vaulted over the phalanx of embattled Fae and lifted her.

Hazily, Eric admired the genius of the assault. The fucking demon had been a diversion meant to draw his away from his wife's defense.

Eric gouged at the demon's eyes as Zeline's current-charged whip cracked down on its balls ripping them to shreds.

"They've opened a portal belowground! Go! They got her!"

The Demon howled in agony clawing at its mangled body as Eric sprang into the gaping hole after his mate.

Sookie hardly had time to grip her knife before a dark elf with yellow rimmed eyes lifted and threw her in to a mass of hissing, sinewy dark elves with livid, bruised looking skin. They were waiting for her –had braced for her impact. She struck out and channeled. A dark elf shrieked and a fountain of dark arterial blood struck Sookie's face. Still many hard hands held her fast. They were moving in a fog. Down.

Somewhere above Eric bellowed her name and she screamed

_I'm down here! Hurry!—There's a portal!_

Current flowed from her hands. She'd felled at least a dozen. Others took their places. Vaguely she wondered why she wasn't dead. Many hands subdued her when she continued to fight. A female with spiked blue hair and black eyes rammed her hand against Sookie's neck and leered.

"I could snap your neck like a twig. Don't tempt me bitch! You don't remember me. But I know you…kin killer. You killed my mother and kinswoman in the Battle of Kisatchie Hills. I'd kill you if the Bound One didn't require you. Mongrel spawn of a stinking Alfheim Fae!" She tightened her grasp and Sookie's vision swam, but still her mind turned desperately to Eric. He was coming! Another dark elf with red amber eyes slapped her face, "It's speaking to its mate. He follows!"

The leader spat on Sookie. "Worthless piss! I'll watch you twist like a hooked worm as The Bound One breaks the bonds from you and leaves the shell for me—then I will rip the muck from your womb with my bare hands and savor the long death I plan for you." Livid energy flowed from her fingers as she dug them into Sookie's temples."

"Go to sleep bitch."

Before she lost consciousness, the air hummed like a universe of insects as a sharp painful current slammed through her. She covered her womb willing the baby to live as her consciousness flowed away like smoke and the dark elves carried her through the waiting portal.

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**What do you think?**

**Do I take this down and tweak it—or keep it up?**

**If you want to hear the rest of this story let me know via a review.**

**If enough people are still reading, I'll continue updating online.**


	18. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Dark Storm Rising

**A/N: Thanks for your support for Dark Storm Rising! I'm truly blessed to have such loyal, engaged readers. Norse notes: Thor, Odin's son, is associated with thunder and is one of the strongest of the ****Æsir****. Thor's mother, Fjord, personifies Earth—so Thor is a union of heaven and earth and the guardian of Midgard as Heimdall is the guardian of Asgard and Delling is the guardian of Alfheim. **

**Thor's hammer, Mjolnir the thunderbolt, keeps jotuns at bay, blesses weddings, and Thor's day. Thursday was preferred as a wedding day and still is by some followers of Asatru and Norse paganism. **** He is the protector of both gods and humans against the forces of evil.****RE the passage between worlds, I tried to be true to SVM canon on this. When they travel to rescue Sookie from Lochlan and Niamh, Niall takes a "short cut" between the worlds. Luckily that concept fits in with Norse cosmology. **

**The YouTube link for "A Tale of Fate" is on my profile page. Hope you enjoy. **

**Thank you AmaZen and FDM for taking the time to beta. You're the best!**

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_**They met on a hill one summer eve**__**  
**__**Oh, noble and graceful both stood**__**  
**__**With eyes so intense, their passion so fierce**__**  
**__**The wildest flame burning inside**__**  
**__**He was the son of a powerful Viking Jarl**__**  
**__**She was a child blessed by Freya in all her ways**__**  
**__**Silently they watched the endless sea**__**  
**__**And time came to say farewell**_

_**"The ships are leaving tomorrow morning**__**  
**__**Far away to foreign lands**__**  
**__**The battlefields call, my fathers to follow**__**  
**__**Proving that I am a man**__**  
**__**With honor in my breast I will win my battles**__**  
**__**My love to you will give me my strength to live**__**  
**__**And when I return all souls will know**__**  
**__**That you are my true wife to be"**__**  
**_

**"****_A Tale of Fate_****"****__****by**_**Hagalaz Runedance**_

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Eric leapt into the crevice. The bright fire of their bond drew him—iron to lodestone. He caught the fragrance of Sookie's scent, felt her heart beating wildly. His knuckles whitened. He suppressed a roar as her terror and rage lashed him. She reached for him and his heart split in two as he closed his mind to her. Somewhere in the darkness ahead, Dark Elves moved soundlessly, flowing like smoke along the tunnel's raw earth and ancient rock. He must be wary. Communication through their bond might alert the Dark Elves to his presence.

She must trust him-even now must realize that he closed his mind to her for her own sake. Consumed with his need to rescue his mate and destroy her captors, he ripped through the darkness toward his prey. The Fae often used such passageways as shortcuts between their world and their destinations upon Midgard and other worlds. No human body could withstand the forces of portal travel, but Sookie was not human.

He prayed to the Æsir and Asynjer that the Fae "magic" within her would protect her as well as their little one. Lacking Fae magic, his successful passage through a Fae portal was uncertain. His death in such an attempt, albeit valiant, would be of no use to Sookie or their unborn child.

_Pssst! Erikr!_

Like a spray of perfume, fragrant air enveloped him amid the odor of damp earth and Dark Elf.

_Can't come to your aid just yet._

Two deep guttural groans sounded in the back of his mind followed by a shriek, then a moan.

_I'm engaged in …public relations work…with one of my constituents. Still, when the All Father wants a message delivered, I do my duty. Here goes."The lowest fence is the easiest to get across"… _

The lovely voice became solemn. _And…Oooooh…yessss…right there!_

Eric gritted his teeth and choked back a growl. His mate's touch vanished as Dark Elves carried her through the portal to whatever end.

More giggles.

"My Lady…"

_Patience! What is it? Oh yes! "Rash is he who at unknown doors, relies on his good luck."_

He really did growl then.

"My Lady… this is no time for word games!"

A deep male voice boomed in his head. An aura of flaming crimson and blinding silver surrounded him.

_AGREED. INVOKE THE THUNDERER. AND MAY LUCK BE WITH YOU._

As Eric tore toward the Fae portal, he called upon Thor, guardian of Midgard to get him through intact.

_Redbeard, bringer of lightning, Life-giving Stormlord, Father of Freedom, Guardian, Defender, _

_Come swiftly to aid me With Mjolnir flashing, _

_Lend me your crushing strength _

_Open the passage between the worlds that I may be death to our enemies._

Thunder rumbled.A globe of lightning sizzled and flared around him raising hairs on his arms. The musk of goats, ozone, and the sharp iron scent of warm blood filled his senses.

_I AM HERE._

Thor's strength filled him. A huge warrior with a bristling red beard and flashing stormy eyes regarded him with approval.

_RAISE YOUR SWORD MY WARRIOR. __  
_

_TAKE MEGINGJARD, MY BELT OF STRENGTH. WALK WITH POWER IN DARKNESS AND LIGHT. DESTROY OUR ENEMIES._

Massive hands placed a supple leather belt around Eric's waist.

_THE ENEMIES' BRIDGE THAT CROSSED INTO ALFHEIM AND IS ANCHORED IN THE REALM OF VALUR SUGURDSSON IS NO MORE. IT WAS MADE WITH THE BOUND ONE'S MAGIC AND VANISHED WHEN THE LAST DARK ELF PASSED. ONLY A GREAT POWER AT THE CUSP OF RAGNAROK COULD FORCE SUCH A PASSAGE PAST ALFHEIM'S GUARDIAN. _

_BATTLE AND RUIN LIE AHEAD._ _YOUR LIFE MAY BE FORFEIT AND SURVIVAL WILL BRING GREAT CHANGE UPON YOU._

"So be it. I do not fear death. Let me pass Lord. I _will_ save my dear ones and bring ruin to our enemies."

Energy danced over his skin, as he hurtled through the portal and flew over the tenuous bridge between the worlds. For a moment he hung suspended, squeezed by the powerful grip of crushing elemental wards. Delling, Alfheim's guardian, studied him with piercing eyes, then relaxed his magic, and lowered his sword.

"Enter Erikr- Worldtreader—blessed of the Æsir—first of your kind to walk in the Blessed Realm. We tracked the intruders, slaughtering many. They are protected by a Great One. The path opens before you. Follow thy foe to the kingdom of ice and fire unto The Last Door."

Eric's guts clenched. The Last Door—the path to Hella's realm and the dark world of Niffelheim.

"The Last Door is legend. I have seen the falls, where the waters boil into unseen whirlpools. There is strength there but no portal."

Delling shook his head. "The Æsir blocked it long ago. The Bound One and his minions have reopened it. But this is our war as well, and we have provided aid for you. Still, it is well that you wear Megingjard and can fly. Go!"

Eric sped through Alfheim's pearly light. Touching the throbbing power of the sacred belt, he focused his mind upon the bright fire of his blessed bond with Sookie. He felt her—a tiny flare of warmth surrounded by massive glaciers and the smoky aura of dark Elves-and cried out as he perceived tons of icy water thundering into a bottomless crevasse.

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Sookie swam toward consciousness, head pounding, and skin still pricking from their passage to and from Alfheim. Swallowing bile that rose in her parched throat, she searched for the small life within her. Their baby was a small, warm presence anchored and vibrant within her womb. Slung like a sack over a Dark Elf's back, jolting over rough uplands, she felt neither warm nor reassured about their chances of survival should she actually regain enough strength to channel and fight.

Where the hell was she anyway? She willed herself limp and tested the elements around her—volcanic rock, cold water, and frigid air filled with the sulfurous musk of Dark Elf. Huge walls of ice loomed on either side of the trail. So cold. Up ahead and about a quarter mile to their right, a huge double waterfall thundered and roared, framed in boiling clouds of mist that glowed faintly under the high waxing moon. She could see the Big Dipper and the great square of Pegasus, so this was definitely Midgård.

Like an outgoing tide, a powerful current of elemental magic pulled them toward the roaring falls.

Her captor grunted and shifted her roughly.

"She's a heavy piece of baggage."

Sookie willed herself to stay limp and not strike out as a hard hand squeezed her ass.

_Steady girl. Relax …relax…soon the damn ward will be gone…and then it'll be BBQ time for you sons of bitches._

Another Elf chucked. "Aye. But a tasty one. Hope she's a tight ride. I've never had a part Fae."

_Heh! When this freaking ward wears off, the first thing I'm aiming for is your balls!_

The leader flashed him a warning glance. "Hands off. This one's spoken for."

Furious and frightened as she was, Sookie stilled herself, and relaxed into the power of the blood bond. Expecting emptiness, she felt, love, anger, resolve, fear and a fiery presence forging a passage across the worlds to her.

_My own! _

_Eric!_ She felt his relief and renewed concern as he reached back across their bond.

Against all odds their bond still called to him. She squeezed her eyes shut -feeling his call in the rhythmic surge of her blood. She strained —trying to send him a mental picture of her location. For a moment she felt his mental signature and the flush of well-being she always felt with her bonded, even now.

_I want you so much! _

_Lover, I'm close. We must be silent now. Be ready._

She shivered. Forcing her thoughts and emotions away from the bond, she focused instead upon the gnarly, dark scramble of hundreds of alien minds surrounding her. The leader called out. A gruff male voice growled an answer in some ancient tongue and the dark Elf Chief barked, "Double the pace!"

Damn! She sensed voids- hostile vamps- and the red snarl that signified the presence of many Weres in their animal form. Filled with fanatical devotion, anticipation, and blood lust, Loki's minions moved with one intent- to free their lord and unleash Ragnarök.

Someone spoke the name "Sigurdsson," an evil bastard and Loki's pet vampire. So this must be the realm of the king of Iceland. Not welcoming conditions for her to channel. But the ward that had bound and blocked her with its magic was wearing thin.

In order to take her, the Dark Elves had broken through some of the most powerful wards in Midgård. How was that possible? If Loki had helped them, even bound as he was, he'd grown very, very strong. Still, someone on this side, someone intimately connected to one of them, must have helped.

When Amelia had helped Prince Niall set the wards they had explained, "You land's wards are fixed upon ley lines with powerful runes and spells. That's usually enough. But because of your unique position in the supernatural world, we've taken more precautions and bound the wards with your blood and Eric's blood. Anyone who shares that blood can pass with no difficulty. Your children, Pam…and Jason of course. Does anyone else fit that description?"

Sookie had laughed at the suggestion. "No! Of course not."

She'd hesitated. There was one other. "Well, there's Bill of course… but that was over years ago…"

"You should be safe then. Only a supernatural who's close to you **and** has shared your blood could possibly attempt to break these wards," Amelia said.

Niall had frowned. "If there is any chance that he would ever…"

Niall would have killed Bill to protect her. Of course, so would Eric…in a human heartbeat. But that Bill would ever betray her…again. Well, at the time it had been unthinkable.

"No! I haven't seen Bill in years. He said he'll always love me and I believe him. Please…don't bring this up with Eric! I'll tell him myself…"

But there had been attacks and battles before the girls came, then they were born and all thought of Bill and wards were forgotten. She never did discuss it with Eric.

Spasms of alarm erupted within her. To break these wards one had to be willing to do battle, to kill. Bill would never kill her…But her children? Her kin? Eric? After so many years, could Bill care so deeply about her? Then she remembered how his dark eyes had followed her when he saw her for the first time after so many years—the flicker far back in his eyes. Yes, he'd wanted her, still.

Enough to betray them? A shock ran through her as well as an acute sense of loss. A vampire's love was possessive. They loved deeply, even eternally…but it was not human love. Bill loved her. He owed no fealty to Eric…had never sworn to protect their children. Eric's children.

_No one but Bill could have done this. Oh no no no… all these years and I never even thought to tell Eric…never thought…and now it may be too late _

She yelped as the Dark Elf holding her, pinched her bottom. Hard.

"Did you have a nice sleep pretty? Enjoying the ride? You can pay me back later; I can tell that you want me…"

"Right. I want you good and dead!"

The leader shifted uneasily, sniffed the air and held up her hand.

"Enough chit-chat! Stay sharp and look for the scouts! They should have returned…"

Her captor sneered. "Such a stink from the Vampires and Weres! We won't be able to scent the enemy. Add in that cloying, flowery Fae stench from Ulswater's butt boys…"

The leader's eyes darted back and forth. "Stink or no, we'll fight beside them if it comes to it or our lord will feed us all to the Weres."

"Well," Sookie thought, "At least that shut him up!"

A huge outcrop of rock rose up to their left and the roar of the falls erased all other sounds. The Dark Elves moved forward warily, swords ready. The female commander froze. Straining to hear, she used her dark magic to scan the surroundings. Sookie could feel it slithering over her.

Just as the female began to move forward again, the missing scouts' heads were hurled with tremendous force, one striking the female and one striking the Dark Elf that held her.

Sookie fell to the ground and began to scramble away. She was sure that Eric had been "bowling" for Dark Elves the same as he'd done for vampires on that long ago night of the disaster at Queen Sophie Ann's party in New Orleans, when she had witnessed King Peter Threadgill's death.

With a battle cry that carried above the thunder of the falls, Eric ploughed into his foes followed by a contingent of Light Elves and Brigant Fae whose scent had been masked. Freed from the binding wards, Sookie centered, drew upon the rushing energy of the falls and the rocky earth, and channeled. She turned upon her captor and sent a cable of energy right through his balls.

"Hah! Take that asshole. Told you how much I wanted you!"

She was busily reducing Dark Elves, enemy Vamps and Weres to ashes, when a dying Were thrashed and knocked her off of her feet twisting her ankle.

Channeling to clear a path to Eric, she crawled through the densely packed masses of legs and fallen bodies. Blood slicked the ground and filled the air with its metallic reek.

Driven into blood lust, Eric was the scythe of Death- decapitating, draining, and rending while Weres lunged at the necks of the Light Elves and Fae, breaking bones and tearing sinews. Fae warrior and elves struck, parried, feinted and spun, locking weapons in a deadly dance of death. Dark and white magics seared the air, illuminating the mist with a ghastly mockery of rainbows.

Drawn forward by their bond Sookie made her way through the carnage until she saw Eric. Surrounded by fallen enemies, he parried the blow of an equally blond and savage Vampire warrior—one of Valur Sigurdsson's retinue.

They were both deep in a Berserker rage with their fangs fully extended. Sookie froze, her heart thundering crazily, as she watched her mate and his enemy attempt to slice and tear each other to shreds. Blood flew from their spathas as each blow released more fury.

Sookie held her breath as Sigurdsson's champion roared and swung at Eric neck. Eric spun to the side severing his enemy's hamstring.

As his enemy sank to the ground, Eric lunged forward and thrust his blade into his opponent's heart. Then he sliced off his enemy's deteriorating head and shook it, howling with triumph.

Only the sight of his mate and the force of the bond pulled him back from his battle lust. Sookie rose from her knees and started towards him. Their eyes locked. In a moment she would be in his arms. Eric rushed forward, paused and raised his sword. The female commander stood between Eric and Sookie. She laughed coldly and lunged at Eric, blasting him backward with a bolt of dark magic.

Another blur and Sookie was caught up in the powerful arms of a Dark Elf. Eric lunged after them. As they raced toward the thundering falls the mist thickened and crackled with dark magic. Sookie fought back, biting and kicking, but the elf ignored her as if she were a kitten and moved implacably towards the falls.

She could feel Eric's desperation as he lost ground and fought to increase his speed. Sookie's hair whipped across her face as the Dark Elf cried out in its own tongue and raced forward like the wind itself and, without pausing at the edge, leaped into the boiling cauldron of the falls.

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Oh Goddess! Not a literal cliffy!

But y'all know Eric's in hot pursuit.

**Your reviews are a GIANT morale booster…so please…**

*hugs*

PS There are some new pics of Kirs and Toller on my FB. The links on my profile page if y'all want to check them out :-D


	19. Chapter 20

**Dark Storm Rising**

**Chapter 20**

_**A/N: Thanks for your patience. I'm involved in National November Writers Month and am in the throes of completing a 50,000 word novel, by the end of November. **_

_**Personal note: The Wheel of the Year has made a full turn since my darling husband Pat survived a thirty foot fall, electrocution and a broken back. On the anniversary of that near death accident, he is fully recovered, working, smiling, and in the arms of his adoring family. Blessed Be.**_

_**Runes: Joseph Campbell said it better than I ever could: "The first and most important effect of a living mythological symbol is to waken and give guidance to the energies of life." The runic system was used by Nordic tribes for both secular and religious purposes. **_

_**Runes were forces, secret allies and their magickal use was transmitted by mouth and learned by heart. They are simple, earthy symbols rooted in the natural world and can be touched and related to by anyone who will ally themselves with those forces. Runes should be handmade from any natural material—stone, clay, wood. Kirsten's are made from Ash as the World Tree is usually described as an enormous Ash. **_

_**I've modified a circle casting rite. **__**A circle **__**is cast for containment and protection. It becomes an invisible force creating a safe space to work in whatever that work may be.**_

_**Min käraste dotter is my dearest daughter. I hope the online translator got it right.**_

_**As always, thank you AmaZen and FDM for your amazing Beta work and for putting up with me.**_

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**__**Facing the storm by the shore**__**  
**__**In sacred colours their foremothers wore**__**  
**__**Calling to the sea, the Vardlokkur, **__**  
**__**In ancient tongue ...Volva's call**_

_**The circle's closing we hear the chants**__**  
**__**Magic rhythms seducing us to dance**__**  
**__**Eyes are closing, what will they see?**__**  
**__**Lost in the search of ancient dreams and ages yet to come…**_

_**Hagalaz Runedance "Volven" (link is on my profile page)**_

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The ground lurched and heaved. Kirsten screamed, "Faðir**! **Móðir!" as she hurled herself over heaps of bodies toward the rapidly closing fissure and plunged her sword into the shrinking gap. Toller grasped her about the waist and heaved her back, wincing as she hammered at his shins.

"Let go you bastard!" She sputtered. "My parents are down there. It's closing!"

Ignoring her kicks and punches, Toller held her gently but firmly. "You can't keep it open Sváss."

Kirsten wrenched free, her blue eyes blazing. "It can't be! No one could close a hole that fast. It isn't possible. The amount of magick it would take …"

Toller stroked the damp curls from her face and kissed her forehead. "A god could. Ragnarök is at hand. Loki, the Fae Lord Ulswater, Dark Elves, and many powerful storm Jotuns are our enemies. Some great one is behind this. You are a gythja, beloved of the Lady Freya. Find another way."

Sheer black fright swept through her. What if she couldn't find another way? Like Del's, her mother and father's, registers had vanished. Her parents had always been there within her, each spiritual signature unique-her father's blue flame shot with reds and indigo, her mother honey and crimson, and Del's white light shot with streaks of gold. All that was left now was a void. Her heart raced as her mind sought out her other kindred. Yes. There was Zee, hot and vivid orange as a coal, Pam's cool silver blue with its single streak of scarlet, and Claudine's brilliant peacock iridescence.

She raised her eyes to find Toller watching her. His eyes caught and held hers as he cupped her face. "I swore an oath to your faðir that I would protect you. My word is my bond."

Kirsten's eyes flashed dangerously. "Protection's the mark of a warrior spirit. I get it; I grew up with it. When I came of age I knelt in the sacred grove and swore an oath before my faðir to protect my family."

She could still feel the sharp sting of the sky iron as her faðir sliced her wrist to seal her blood oath.

"I swore to 'protect with savagery my blood and kin thrice as fiercely any who attack.' I've trained for combat all of my life. It's my path."

Her mouth quirked. "All that Viking, Fae, and Vamp DNA's woven into my fibers. How many human fathers would tell their little girls to, 'have no remorse in the savagery of conflict'?"

She could hear her father's voice, more accented than usual, as he taught her their peoples' ways. Bruised in pride and body, scratched, and sore, she had refused to give up until she drew blood. But hammer on him as she might, she had not been able to break through his guard. In the end he had drawn blood and thrown her several feet.

Damn! Her ass had hurt! She'd wanted to cry, but instead let rage take her as she glared into those icy blue eyes. She'd ignored his hand and shoved herself to her feet nostrils flaring—wishing like hell that she could knock him on _his_ ass. She had been all of thirteen.

She'd bristled even more when she saw the flash of amusement in his eyes as he laid his hand gently upon her head. "You did well min käraste dotter, but not well enough, and so I won again. I must be harsh to make you strong. Those who follow the way of the warrior know the art of conflict, weapons, and vengeance. Let there always be inequity in defense." She willed herself not to wince as he grinned and clapped her aching shoulder.

"Enough talk. Raise your spatha. Win. Prevail. Survive."

She shook off the memory and terrible absence that surrounded it, and raised her chin so that her eyes met Toller's. "If you swore to protect me, you'll have to come with me. I'm going after my parents. I've sworn my own oaths."

She clenched her fists and glared. "You can't stop me. Whether we fight together or I fight alone, I won't stop until I kill the fuckers who took my mother and the evil bastard who's behind this."

A tall, lanky vampire, still healing from burn scars approached and bowed.

"Your pardon, sire. A word please." He glanced at Kirsten. "Perhaps we should speak in private."

"Einar! I am glad to see that you survived and are healing quickly. You may speak. My lady Kirsten is privy to any information you have."

A suffocating sensation tightened Kirsten's throat as Einar explained.

"Sheriff Northman's second, the vampire Pamela Ravenscroft was called away by her king, Felipe de Castro. Valur Sigurdsson's child, Queen Maude of Minnesota, has attacked Illinois. Sigurdsson's child and her Canadian allies are warring with the Great Lake states not under the Bound One's influence. Maud's children and Sigurdsson's line are moving against any kingdoms whose monarchs have declared for the Aesir as well as any kingdoms aligned with those kingdoms.

Unfortunately, Arizona, and Tennessee have moved against de Castro's kingdom. Now, de Castro has called upon King Stanislaus of Texas to honor the alliance agreed upon in the marriage contract to Adele Northman. Stanislaus hates de Castro, but will fight because these enemies threaten Texas as well as his future queen and her kin.

There is more trouble internationally. Fenris corporation has manipulated the arms race between India and Pakistan, whose human and vampire rulers despise each other. Fenris Corporation also supplies North Korea with nuclear and biological weapons. Since a Fenris Were is the current dictator, open warfare in Asia is inevitable. The European vampire states are also preparing to battle one another, and the Ulswater and Brigant Fae are at war in Alfheim."

A chill black silence surrounded them. Toller's expression darkened.

"So, Ragnarök has begun as was foretold."

Like a bowstring drawn taut waiting for release—Kirsten felt a terrible tension. At last it was time for them to strike their enemies.

Einar cleared his throat, "There is one other small matter, min konung. The vampire William Compton has disappeared from Louisiana. Our intelligence says that he was in the company of vampires affiliated with the kingdom of Tennessee—now de Castro's enemy."

Kirsten face clouded with uneasiness. "Why would anyone abduct Bill Compton?"

The muscles in Toller's forearm hardened beneath her hand. "Compton shares a blood tie to your mother. Even weakened by years of separation, such a tie would be of value to our enemies. He also has much 'inside' knowledge of the Northman's and of de Castro's kingdom. How did they capture him? Silver? "

Einar's gaze shifted from Toller to Kirsten. "The spies say that he left voluntarily-that he signed his home over to his human companion. De Castro had his female companion questioned and glamoured, but she could tell them nothing except that he had been restless and exceptionally moody of late. No. I'm sure he left voluntarily. De Castro believes that Compton has betrayed us."

Kirsten's eyes blazed. "But..."

Toller held up his hand, his face impassive. "My thanks Einar. I charge you to guard the grounds until dawn when the remaining Brigant Fae and Longtooth Weres will take over."

After Einar bowed and departed, Kirsten looked up at Toller, bewildered. "Why would Bill Compton do such a thing? My mother claimed that the bastard loved her and would never harm her!"

Toller's glance traveled over Kirsten. His eyes softened.

"Never underestimate the power of passion Sváss. It was a mistake to allow this creature to see your mother again. I have seen Compton look at your mother. He burns for her. I know this. I have felt such longing waiting for your return."

"But she doesn't love him! Anyone who knows my parents knows that they love each other more than anything or anyone else-anywhere."

"He only sees what he wants to see. He wants your mother back and believes that she will turn to him in the end. When she was no longer his, all that remained for him was emptiness- his memory of her feeding remorse and want. But passion fueled the hope that he could regain her—make her his again. Passion drives him. If he burns for her as I burn for you, he will do anything to possess her. I do not know how he did it , but I understand why. The enemy is very strong and persuasive; if the Bound One's minions convinced Compton that he could regain your mother, he would turn to them. The Bound One understands the power of lust and passion. If he has gone with the Bound One's allies, I'm certain that Compton has betrayed us"

Shock yielded quickly to fury. "If he's hurt my mother, I swear by all that's holy that I'll kill him!"

Toller put a large hand upon Kirsten's waist and drew her to him. Her head fit perfectly into the hollow between his shoulder and neck. For a moment she relaxed into his cushioning embrace as he held her.

She sensed that Toller was right. The Doom of the Gods-Ragnarök- had truly begun. The worlds were already engaged in battle. Across the field Claudine knelt upon the ground, scooping something into her hand, weeping and keening.

Kirsten pulled away gently."Claudine needs me."

Toller kissed her forehead. "Go to you kinswoman. I'll gather all who are fit for battle and do what I can to strengthen our defenses. Then, I will return and we _will_ find a way to your parents. I won't be long."

Kirsten gripped Toller's arm. "But your kingdom…Shouldn't you …"

"The bulk of Ulswater and Sigurdsson's forces are pitted against the Northman and Brigant clans. I'm of little concern to them. They're confident that they can kill me and deal with my kingdom after they attend to more pressing matters for The Bound One. I've spoken to my lieutenants and my second. Sigurdsson hasn't moved against Sweden. The battle lines are drawn, but he is occupied elswhere." His eyes fastened upon Kirsten. "Sigurdsson's eyes are on a greater prize. My place is by your side."

He kissed her with a hunger that belied his outward calm, and then rose swiftly into the night.

A shock wave coursed through Kirsten's body. More! She wanted more! Her thoughts whirling, she wheeled and jabbed as a warm hand squeezed her shoulder.

Zeline deflected the strike with a lightning fast block. "Easy Kirs! Get your mind off the lip lock."

"Zee! Sorry! I'm wired." Kirsten bear hugged her cousin. "I'm sooo glad you're okay."

Zeline hugged Kirsten back. They clung to each other. Zeline sniffed.

"Don't even think about trying to rescue your mom without me! They're my family too—almost all I have left in Midgard. Where you go, I go. But Claudine's got to post guards here and return to Alfheim. Charles says that enculé Ulswater's forces have attacked the Brigants. "

She sighed heavily, her voice filled with anguish. "Our guardians, Aderyn and Rhiannon, have gone to the Summerland. We haven't time for proper passage rites. Claudine has to leave soon, but she says that there's something that we _can_ do. I'll fetch your runes from the house while you talk to her. You might need them."

Kirsten closed her eyes, swallowing the sob that rose in her throat."I'll go to her now."

Aderyn and Rhiannon, Fae twins with magnificent auburn hair, wicked wit, and magnificent singing voices, had been her guardians since she was a child. They were ancient beings whose minds, will, hearts, and body were lost to this world. But their spirits—that spark of the divine within them, would survive the journey to Summerland. They had given their lives in her defense and she swore silently to them that she would give something back.

_Aderyn and ____Rhiannon__, you loved this life and you both died for me. When the time comes, and if it's your will, I ask you to reincarnate here. My womb is open to you. So mote it be._

Claudine's body slumped in despair as she cupped fine white dust. Kirsten kissed her gently and felt her shudder as she drew in a sharp breath.

Her face was bleak with a sorrow beyond tears. "My friends are gone. We've walked the centuries together and now they are dust."

Kirsten's heart squeezed with anguish. Tears blinded her eyes and choked her voice. " I'm sorry! I'm sorry for everything."

How many more loved ones would be lost before this nightmare ended?

Claudine murmured. "Aderyn and Rhiannon have passed into the Summerland in your defense. Their dust mingles with Midgard's soil. I am called back to Alfheim where the next battle is about to begin. Cast the circle with this earth and dust. Their spirits will aid your passage."

Kirsten cupped her hands reverently as Claudine poured the dust carefully into her cupped palms. "I am honored."

Claudine's beautiful face shone with the light of her people and a steadfast strength. "Now, I go to war. Bless me and I'll bless you. Whether here, or in the Summerland, we will meet again cousin."

Facing each other both women chanted: 'Tyr. We praise thee on this day. Protection grant for those who slay. Fetter fear, the victory win. Bind the wolves, without, within!" Then with one last touch, Claudine vanished.

Zeline emerged from the dark house carrying a burning stick of incense and carefully handed a red leather pouch to Kirsten.

" Gods! I wish we could just pop back and forth like that! How are we going to find your parents and get to them— seiðr magic? "

Kirsten's eyes hardened as she surveyed their ruined garden, reeking of blood and trampled greenery and shook her head.

"A seiðr trance and spirit journey will be too time-consuming. Besides, traveling without our bodies is too risky. The barriers are breached. The woods aren't safe, and the enemy's portal is closed. A rune cast would give us the answer we need more quickly. Then we need to make a portal that our physical bodies can get through. It's risky."

She looked at the fine dust in her cupped palm. "But we'll have strong protection."

Zeline shook her head. "We have our own Fae heritage, and the protection of the the Guardian spirits. Toller's strong. I think the three of us can raise enough energy to create a portal we can squeeze through. We can cast a circle, but we'll have to move fast. "

The women cleared and purified a small untrammeled area apart from the battle ground, then breathed deeply and focused upon the spiritual portal at the crown of their head, relaxing and opening themselves until pure white energy flowed down to fill them. Toller returned and silently joined them as Kirsten and Zeline cast the circle.

Facing the east Kirsten raised her ritual knife, then knelt and reverently placed the dust of the fallen Fae upon the purified earth. "I call upon you, Guardians of the East, spirits of air, bright spirits of Aderyn and Rhiannon of the Brigants, our beloved kin. Ves Hail!"

Drawing her knife Zeline faced south, "I call upon you Guardians of the South, powers of fire, of passion and battle fury, of our warrior ancestors and kin, to witness this rite and guard this circle. Ves Hail!"

Kirsten moved clockwise until she faced west. "I call upon you Guardians of the West, powers of water, pulsing in the endless cycle of the tides and moon blood, to witness this rite and guard this circle. Ves Hail!"

Both faced north and spoke together. "We call upon you Guardians of the North, powers of earth, cradling bone, sprout, and seed—past, present and future within the Mother's womb, to witness this rite and guard this circle. Ves hail!"

Kirsten and Zeline moved back to the center of the circle where Toller stood, then faced east and raised their arms. "The circle is bound with power all around. Between the worlds we stand with protection at hand."

Kirsten crouched, removed her rune cloth from the leather pouch and laid it carefully upon the ground. Taking a deep, centering breath she asked,_ Lord Odin and Lady Freya, guardians and patrons of the runes—if the portal is opened, will we rescue my parents and vanquish our enemy? _

She carefully selected five runes and laid them one at a time face down in a cross shape upon the cloth. Zeline drew in her breath with a sharp hiss.

Kirsten lowered her gaze in confusion, a slight hesitation in her hawk like eyes. The first was the blank rune, _Wyrd_-that which is destined to be and cannot be avoided. A rune so ambiguous could as easily mean a bad occurrence as a good one. She glanced at Zeline, "The journey affects us all so, we'll each turn a rune so that our energy combines with the magick. You turn the next one Zee."

Zee reached down. Her hand trembled slightly as she turned the wood face up. Toller hand tightened on her shoulder and Kirsten's sprits sank even lower. _Perdhro_—the mystery rune. Something that remained hidden was about to come to light. But whether that something would do them good or evil was uncertain. At least the rune was upright—otherwise it would mean that events would more than likely not turn out as they hoped.

Her eyes met Toller's. He smiled reassuringly as he turned the next rune, _Ehwaz_-the rune of physical movement, shifts and new dwelling places. Kirsten chewed on her lower lip and stole another look at Toller and Zeline.

"This could mean a change for the better that involves travel."

Zee snorted. "We sort of expected the travel bit…"

Kirsten kept her voice neutral as she turned the next rune. "Hush up Zee! Let's see what's next-Oh! This is better! " _Beorc_- the rune of fertility, birth and family, of mother and children.

Toller grinned, "In other circumstances, I would be delighted by that rune Svass."

Kirsten hugged her knees and shook her head. "It's still a good thing…paired with _Ehwaz_ it means a journey and a family reunion…but the result rune will tell us a lot more. Zee?"

Her face clouded with uneasiness, Zeline turned the last and most significant rune and a cry of relief broke from her lips-_Tyr_- the great rune of victory symbolizing kings and leaders—of might for right and trial by combat and fearlessness.

A flash of humor crossed Kirsten's face. In typical fashion the gods had given her a tough row to hoe. "We'll consider ourselves warned, Great Ones. We all know that the choice we face now—to act and risk our lives in battle, or to not act and still face death—is a no brainer. The rune cast indicates victory only if we make an effort."

"Toller helped her to her feet. "Agreed. And you are spoiling for a fight."

Zeline snorted. "We're always spoiling for a fight."

Kirsten nodded. "Claudine's left a guard to make sure the circle stays undisturbed and the portal stays grounded to Midgard so that we can return safely. We'll begin the portal opening ritual now. Face west and hold up your right hand palm out."

With her ancient stone ritual knife she swiftly sliced each of their palms so that their blood dripped on the earth before the western gate. She then traced a waving journey mark of their combined blood upon each of their brows to ensure a safe journey between the worlds. Toller grunted and the women shuddered and twitched as a jolt of power passed through and among them. Zeline and Kirsten took, deep centering breaths, while Toller closed his eyes and allowed the entranced women's hypnotic chant to fill him. Zeline began.

"Tyr, hear our summons! Undefeated defender and lord of the Allthing, lend us aid now! As Fenris you fed, of the Beast you were binder. One hand—winning renowned—bless now our battle!"

Kirsten continued, "Be now our star, bright beacon in darkness. Lord of justice, receive now our offering of blood and spirit!"

"The Gate is opening. We stand now in a place that is not a place; in a time that is not a time. I see two eagles tumbling through the clouds talons locked –rending and screeching—one lies dead –dashed and torn upon rock. The other screams in victory."

She fell silent as a deep voice called to her and through her to Toller and Zeline.

Then Tyr, son of Odin, spoke, his deep voice resonating through her mind.

"I was sent because I bring victory through sacrifice. In this battle there can been no triumph without loss. Will you accept this and continue?"

Each answered. "I will."

"Then look upwards into the vastness beyond Midgard."

They looked, and saw a great double helix traced with fine lines twisted outward—the entire earth hung like a dewdrop on the infinitely twisting stalk.

"Behold the web of Wyrd, of all life that has been and will be. Each being, even a god, weaves his or her web in the unseen realms from their actions and thoughts. Look through the veil to see the consequences that touch your life."

Kirsten's heart raced and her breath caught is her throat as she saw herself and Toller in different forms throughout the ages but always together, always bound. She perceived herself as Selin. She and Toller made love on the soft moss near a still lake. She had never gotten the chance to tell him that she had conceived. She felt Sigurdsson strike her and felt the impact of the earth, saw her soul rise up and away from her lifeless body.

There was the great Lady ,Freya, guiding the bonding of her parents—two beings fighting against the tidal pull of their wyrd—against the powerful love that pulled them together—both terrified of the danger of being defenseless and cast aside. Yet she perceived that it was when they surrendered, opened up, and admitted the other completely that they became truly strong.

In order to become strong, they had had to let go of their fear. And the thread of their love had led to Kirsten and Adele, also bonded, linking the races—creating balance, like a fulcrum, so that the worlds could continue in relative peace. And she understood their purpose—as lightning rods ground heaven to earth, she and Del were the fruit of the gods' plan for balance in this age.

But Del was The Bridge and upon her the load was heaviest. There was also a thread that glowed white-hot. It was linked to her parents bond and linked to her and Adele, but it was also linked to a colossus who was breaking free of its bonds.

The Jotten Loki shifted and leered at her with avid, inhuman eyes. She understood with a shiver that all magical bonds created by the Aesir were linked to the bond that held the enemy of the Aesir.

He was almost free. The release of one more magical bond, the bond her parents shared, would release him and unleash Ragnarök—and the worlds that existed would be nothing but battlefields until the last retainer fell. Kirsten began to groan. She saw the Great Ash, the World Tree, whose trunk rose through the ages linking the three worlds. It was decaying. She vomited into the abyss. A beautiful woman dressed in a linen tunic lifted her and kissed her brow.

A memory came to her like a distant voice that grew stronger the harder she listened, and she knew what she must do.

She raised the stone knife and drove the blade into the earth, grounding herself to Midgård. Briefly she felt the pressure of the Toller and Zeline's hands and then she was alone on the edge of a cliff in a foreign landscape of steam and ice. A powerful warrior who gripped a spear in his remaining hand, stood beside her.

"Ragnarok approaches and the Bound One sees far. Raise up your banner. For you go to your destiny. No knowledge can save you and no magic will save you either unless the Bound One remains in chains. Fight fear, endure pain, and your courage and passion for justice will lead to victory."

Slowly Kirsten, Toller and Zeline gathered themselves.

Kirsten realized with a shudder that she was still between the worlds, as Toller's lover Selin had been, and Loki had perceived her yet again in this new incarnation. She stood at the crossroads and must move either forwards towards the portal or backwards toward her home. The knife that was Selin's grounded them to Midgård. She could grasp it, break the circle and bring them home, or gather herself so that all three of them entered the other world.

A faint smile played across her lips as she realized that she truly was in two places at once. She felt the door to the other worlds open beside her.

Suddenly there was a huge rush of wind like a sudden thunderstorm. A sulfurous smell gagged her and the uncomfortable prickle of dark magic overwhelmed her. Her stomach clenched. As The Bound One perceived her, Kirsten felt a ripple and the heat of completed magick coursed through her.

Zeline squeezed her hand. "The portal's fully open now, but it's not going to stay open much longer. We have to cross now before it's too late. We have to finish now. Unground us from Midgard."

Kirsten squeezed Toller's hand. "Get ready and don't let go till we're across!"

Both women chanted, "The Wheel is turning. Fear is lost to the Night. We set sail, set sail. Turn your face where the sun grows dim. Beyond the rim, beyond the rim. Set sail set sail. Make your heart a burning fire. Build it higher. Build it higher. Set sail, set sail. Pass in an instant through the open gate. It will not wait. It will not wait."

Kirsten reached down and pulled the stone blade from the earth, sheathed it, and slipped it back around her neck. She felt a shriek build in her throat as a sucking tide of power swept them into another world and towards their destiny.

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_**We're heading for the home stretch.**_

_**Thanks for your patience with my updates!**_

_**Let me know you're there and still reading**_

_***hugs***_


	20. Chapter 21

_**Chapter 21**_

_**Lo, there do I see my father**__**  
**__**Lo, there do I see my mother and my sisters and my brothers**__**  
**__**Lo, there do I see the line of my people back to the beginning**__**  
**__**Lo, they do call to me;; **__**  
**__**They bid me take my place among them **_

_**In the halls of Valhalla**__**  
**__**Where the brave may live forever**_

_**Viking Death Prayer from "The 13**__**th**__** Warrior"**_

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_**A/N: Thanks for being such wonderful readers and reviewers. You all inspire me to write.**_

_**Norse Note One: The Alfar are the Fae of Alfheim. **__**Liosalfar means light elf (i.e. Fae). Surt **__**is a **__**jötun. He is foretold to go to battle against the **__**Æsir **__**during Ragnarök, and the flames that he brings forth will engulf the Earth.**_

_**Norse Note Two: The Norns are not exactly like the Greek fates. **__**Urd, Skuld, and Verdandi's names translate to "Wyrd," "Should" (not "shall"), and "Coming Into Being." This in itself is different from past, present and future.**_

_**So, rather than simply having a representation of linear time, we have a concept of all things being in a state of change.**_

_**All things exist within the Wyrd and are interconnected by it. Hence, the symbolism of a web or woven strands. Our Wyrd is a web of interconnections within a larger web. Working our True Will requires the ability to move with freedom within the constraints of our Wyrd, bearing in mind that our every action changes our Wyrd. **_

_**Thank you FDM and AmaZen, my wonderful betas, for your patience, insight, and eagle eyes .**__**  
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Delling, the Fae Guardian of Alfheim's threshold, scrutinized the pulsing portal between the worlds uneasily. The pearl grey sky of Alfheim had turned dark and stormy and a thick mist poured across its gently rolling woodlands. He gripped his sword and scanned the aether for hostile registers, sensitive to the slightest variation. The worlds were in turmoil. He sensed blood and battle among the Alfar. Sewell Ulswater had returned with forces of Dark Elves. Urd, Skuld, and Verdandi, the Wyrd Weavers, whispered that the waters of their sacred well were clouded and restless- the strands of Wyrd changing and metamorphosing as each choice, each decision across the worlds moved closer to Ragnarök.

The present related directly to past choices. But what should be, or might be… Ah. The future would change as circumstances changed. No prophesy could precisely pronounce what would be. Ragnarök had been foreseen for millennia, yet those involved could take steps to avert it. The end results, be they good or ill, wereends results, be they good or ill, were not fixed.

Still, events must have taken a turn for the worse. His mind floundered when he contemplated Tyr and Freya's directive to allow undead devotees of the Æsir to travel through the blessed land of Liosalfar. Even Lord Freyr, chief deity of the Alfar, commanded him to allow these travelers to pass. The Blood Daughter and the shifter, carried Fae blood, but only desperation and fear of the gravest danger could account for allowing vampire predators, even those sworn to the Æsir and Asynjer, into the Blessed Realm.

If the Great Ones could allow such unnatural contamination of Alfheim's soil, they must fear that The Bound One or his Dark Elf and Jötun supporters were an imminent threat. The renegade Lord of the Ulswater Fae had escaped his prison and rallied his troops for the Jötun born Loki. Ulswater's kindred and minions, Fenris, Weres, and Vampire allies would follow him into battle. Vibrant with malevolencewith malevolence, the Dark Elves had left their world and swarmed into Midgård through the ancient Huldufolk portals in Valur Sigurdsson's Iceland realmIceland realm. If Ulswater or his Fae supporters opened a portal to them, there would be civil war and all of Alfheim would quickly become a battlefield.

But he would not choose solitude or lose faith in his world. He would guard Alfheim until Surt flung unquenchable fire in every direction and the nine worlds burned.

Deep within the thickening mist, a cool muddied register troubled his mind.

He glowered and called out "Make yourself knownyourself known!"

Even Niall Brigant's resonant voice was muted by the fog.

"Ho Delling!" as he appeared out of the thickening mist, smiling benevolently.

Delling relaxed a bit but regarded the prince quizzically.

The nagging in the back of his mind refused to be stilled. "My Lord, I expected your retainers Gwydion and Mael."

The prince's calm, open face looked momentarily rueful. "The enemy has bespelled the weather. Some Great One must favor the Jötunn. Dark Elves and Ulswater Fae will attack soon. I needed to be here myself to oversee the safe passage for my kin."

Distrust chilled Delling's eyes, but his voice was respectful. "Of course, my lord. I am at your service."

He gripped his sword more tightly, spasms of alarm erupting within him—something was terribly off. Brigant smiled with anticipatory delight and stepped forward, extracting an object from his cloak. Something lethal flickered in his eyes.

Delling raised his sword. "Come no further!"

The prince's lips twitched with amusement. "My friend! I have a battle gift for you…"

Delling gathered power until he blazed red-gold like the dawn. His sword flashed as four jets of livid light hammered into him sending him reeling. Hot coals of agony cut into his flesh, one searing jolt after another, over and over again. Niall Brigant raised an iron blade and plunged it into Delling's chest, grinning with delight while twisting and turning the infernal thing. Something broke inside Delling. Then there was darkness scented with his blood and the echoing hoots of his murderers.

Brigant grinned savagely and licked the blade. "Lovely!"

Shadowy twisted figures swarmed out of the mist, their yellow eyes glowing in the gloom.

A tattooed Dark Elf with ivory eyes and a stiffened mane of raven hair bowed. "Your orders my chieftain?"

Cold opalescent eyes surveyed the corpse. "Leave the armor and sword. Get the body out of here and consume it as you did the others. The flesh of the Light Fae is very sweet. Make ready. Attack swiftly. Our Lords promise riches and chiefdoms for success and endless torment for incompetence!"

The largest of the Dark Elves bowed, motioned to his troops, and they faded into the mist carrying Delling's corpse.

The portal pulsed and blazed as the first traveler pushed through the barrier. Brigant felt a brief, vicious satisfaction as he morphed into Delling and whispered a charm to thicken the fog.

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Toller, Kirsten, and Zeline emerged into the mist of Alfheim poised to attack. Opaque fog rolled and churned around them. Mist beaded cold upon their cheeks and sat like a lid upon Alfheim deadening sound and sight. Toller's fangs ran out. "Fae blood has been spilled here."

He scrutinized the mist. "And dark magick is afoot."

His whisper seemed unnaturally loud in the eerie silence.

Kirsten's nostrils flared. "It's fresh."

Zeline uncoiled her whip. The silence was complete; not even a puff of wind. The sweet, metallic stench of death mingled with the soft scents of grass, blossoms, and rising sap.

A sibilant hiss cut the silence.

In front of them the tall and powerful Delling materialized like a phantom against the purling mists, his sword unsheathed. He studied Kirsten with a curious intensity. His mouth spread into a thin-lipped smile.

A dark ripple crossed her mind, but Kirsten forced herself to smile and murmured, "My Lord Guardian…"

" My Lady." Delling purred and stepped within striking range. Kirsten focused and pushed hard against Delling's powerful shielding magick. No Alfheim Fae possessed the dull black aura she detected. Zeline yelled and Kirsten snarled, her fangs running out.

Fear and anger tore at Kirsten as she hazarded one shared thought with Toller and Zeline and hoped that they'd hear. "_Get ready! It's a Dark Elf shifter! Channel some zap into that whip Zee!"_

Kirsten called down the battle rage and swung her sword in a high hard arc, aiming for the shapeshifing elf's neck as Zeline's whip of blue white energy sizzled and snaked around the imposter's torso and jerked him to his knees. Kirsten lunged forward to deliver the death blow.

Toller bellowed "Get down!"

Screaming a battle cry, he lunged past the women and drove his sword into their enemy's heart as a blur of twinkling Dark Elven death scythes whizzed just above their heads accompanied by incoherent shrieks and curses as Dark Elves churned out of the mists.

Kirsten drew in a sharp breath as steel sliced her temple. Her heart thundered crazily as she swiped blood away from her eyes, hoping that her preternatural platelets would heal the wound quickly. Then a hard muscular body ploughed into her stomach slamming her to the ground. The Dark Elf's savage scream ended in a howl as Kirsten slammed her knee into its crotch and pistoned her fists into her attacker's ribs.

Then her attacker's weight vanished. Toller towered above her roaring with Berserker rage. The Dark Elf's milky eyes bulged as Toller snapped its spine, and hurled it into their attackers like a broken branch.

The fog flared phosphorescent green and echoed with grunts, snarls and shrieks. Zeline's whip cracked and flared with white light as it sliced through the enemy like a wire through cheese.

Then a second wave of Dark Elves swarmed around them, shrieking and snarling. Kirsten and Toller, hacked and sliced, shattered bone, and rent sinew.

Zeline yelled and cracked her whip splitting a Dark Elf in two, "Watch your back Toller!"

Kirsten scrambled to her feet. "Toller! Vamp at six o'clock! The fucker's invisible."

Toller bared his fangs, spun, and struck into the fog. _Clang!_ His arm shuddered and his bones absorbed the shock of his opponent's parry.

Toller's eyes glowed. "Sigurdsson! I smell your stink! Show yourself."

"Only so that you can watch me fuck your woman before I kill you. I'll take the little shifter too, but I prefer riding atop blond thatch."

A huge, bear- like warrior with a puckered scar from eye to chin and a braided red beard materialized. Valur Sigurdsson's fangs ran out. His rabid eyes raked over Kirsten.

Kirsten's face mottled with fury. "Try it bastard!"

Toller roared, "Keep back!"

But before he could stop her, Kirsten lunged forward growling and thrusting at Valor Sigurdsson's heart.

Sigurdsson parried and cut her arm "Just a nick to remind you who is master, pretty! I'll make you sore in other ways very soon."

Then he slammed her into the ground, unconscious and bleeding. Snarling, Zeline morphed into a female bobcat and sprang at Sigurdsson, claws unsheathed. Three bows twanged and the large cat tumbled to the ground with a screech, a Dark Elf arrow in her shoulder. Scrabbling to rise, Zeline shifted to human form and then lay limp and silent.

With another roar Toller was upon Sigurdsson, his movements a blur. Their steel blades clashed together in flashing arcs. Toller blocked Sigurdsson's killing thrust and used his momentum to slice Sigurdsson's right bicep. Sigurdsson roared and slammed himself against Toller who staggered back. They fought in silence intent upon the kill and the prize that lay unconscious on the ground, her golden hair spilling about her.

Sigurdsson had more muscle, but Toller had better balance and was quicker. He shifted around his opponent, blocking a blow to his neck, and sliced Sigurdsson's hamstring clean through, dropping him to his knees.

Toller placed the razor sharp edge of his sword against his enemy's throat.

He grabbed Sigurdsson's hair forcing him to look into his eyes. He thought of Selin, and Kirsten, and of his slain kinsman, of the ruin Sigurdsson sought to unleash upon the worlds

"Go to Hel forever bastard."

He sliced off Sigurdsson's head and watched the body disintegrate, finally fulfilling his oath to the Aesir.

In a flash he was at Kirsten's side. Toller bent down and removed her torn and stained tunic drinking in her beauty, examining her carefully. Her strong body was bruised but there were no broken bones.

The worst wound was a crimson gash across her temple, but it was already healing.

_Mine! She's mine and I have to have her now!_

But Zeline's heart rate had slowed and her breathing was irregular.

With colossal control, he held back for a moment and checked Zeline who still lay naked and inert. She had multiple bruises and a lump on the back of her head. Those would heal, but the arrow wound was another matter. Blood oozed around the onyx shaft that pierced her shoulder. The arrowhead had torn tendons and nicked her clavicle, but had mercifully missed the major blood vessels.

She'd never be able to travel with such a wound and there was no time to stabilize the arrow. It had to come out immediately. He'd have to break the shaft, and apply pressure, while he gave her blood. Ripping off a piece of his shirt, he applied pressure to the wound and thanked the gods that the arrow hadn't flown at full velocity. He rolled her gently, broke the shaft and pushed the arrow through before she drew another breath. Now blood spurted. The essence of his being screamed at him to drink deeply from her, but his oath and his pledge to Kirsten held him back.

He bit his wrist, put it to Zeline's lips and bent his will upon her.

"Zeline."

She whimpered.

"You _must_ drink to heal."

She resisted, but he knew how to coax a warrior.

"You must drink and heal if you want revenge."

He felt her resistance melt, and she drew in his blood. Her warm, soft lips were intoxicating, but one draw of his blood was enough. The feeling evaporated as he focused on Kirsten and his burning need to claim her.

Zeline shivered with chill and fatigue, but her breathing and pulse were strong and steady. His blood and her shifter/Fae heritage would heal her wounds quickly.

He covered her with a dark Elf's cloak and whispered, "Sleep deeply now and heal," as Kirsten's eyes fluttered open.

"Zee?"

"She'll be fine.

"Sigurdsson?"

"Sigurdsson's dead and I will claim his kingdom"

"Good."

"I'll help you heal."

Kirsten gasped as Toller bent down to lick, his body partially covering hers. The intoxicating musk of his arousal almost overwhelmed her.

She raked her nails across the rippling, smooth muscles of his broad back.

"Mmm… I love it when you lick me there—" His tongue caressed her breast and swollen nipples. "And there."

Moaning, she arched toward him as her fangs ran out. He parted her lips with his tongue and kissed her deeply leaving her mouth burning with fire. God she wanted him to take her hard, right there on ground reeking of blood—the scent of death and battle surrounding them. She wanted mutual possession—a raw, primal confirmation of their survival.

"Sváss!"

She twisted away.

"I want you so bad, but we can't. Not now."

Toller closed his eyes savoring his woman's scent and warmth, and sighed heavily.

"You're right. All of the Dark Elves are dead or in retreat. The Fae will find and kill them. But your kinsman, Prince Niall, must be informed that Delling has gone to the Hall of Heroes."

She curled back into him. "He'll know. He'll have felt him go."

He kissed her fingers as she brushed them gently across his lips.

"But he must be informed that the Dark Elves have powerful shifters among them."

Kirsten rearranged her clothes. "And Zee may not be able to go on. Do you think my great-great grandfather would be able to keep her here?

Toller shrugged. "She is wounded and of the Brigant line. Even at war, the Brigants can protect her, and we have no time to care for her. Time moves differently here—we must follow your parents' trail back into Midgard."

She smiled ruefully. "I know we have to go, but can I have a rain check on the lovin'?"

Toller stretched and smirked. "Why settle for rain when I've stored up a hurricane? "

She glanced at the pearly light worriedly."But don't you need to go to ground?"

Toller turned to her tucking a strand of long golden hair behind her ear.

"No, min Sváss. In Alfheim time runs differently and there is no sun as in Midgård so the dawn will not affect us here. But we must be very careful to reenter Midgard after dark. And we must leave as soon as your cousin can move. Your mother is The Bound One's bait. He knows her loved ones will come for her."

"And we're doing just that…"

"But not precisely as he would wish. And he has less knowledge of the Æsir and of Adele's part in all of this than he would like. The All Father always plans an element of surprise which others cannot grasp. We too must do our best to mystify, mislead and surprise our enemies."

He means to lure us in even as the Æsir maneuver us to attempt to restrain him."

"What if we can't?"

"If we fail we will certainly hear the Gjallarhorn sing out The Doom of the Gods."

_**8888888**_

**Oh, yeah, **

**Y'all know how it goes, your man wups ass, testosterone levels rise, alpha instincts take over and a lusty shag's on the menu.**

**_Poor Kirs :-( When will she get her "rain check ?"_**

**:-D**

_**So, are you ready for Adele, Eric and Sookie now?**_

_**Who's your fav girl?**_


	21. Chapter 22

_**Dark Storm Rising**_

_****__**Chapter 22**_  


_**A/N: Happy Solstice, Merry Yule, Merry Christmas, Happy Chanukah, Happy Kwanza! I DID it! I completed a 50,000 word original novel in one tortured month for NaNoWriMo. So, here's a Holiday gift for you. We're back to Eric and Sookie. Hope you enjoy. Thank you for your patience. **_

_**Thank you FDM and AmaZen for your advice, editing skills, and support.**_

_**88888888888888**_

_**When the night has come  
And the land is dark  
And the moon is the only light we'll see  
No I won't be afraid, no I won't be afraid  
Just as long as you stand, stand by me**_

_**And darlin', darlin', stand by me, oh now now stand by me  
Stand by me, stand by me**_

_**If the sky that we look upon  
Should tumble and fall  
And the mountains should crumble to the sea  
I won't cry, I won't cry, no I won't shed a tear  
Just as long as you stand, stand by me**_

"_**Stand by Me" by Ben E. King**_

_**88888888888888888**_

Sookie plummeted into the fall's white roaring chaos locked in the Dark Elf's embrace. She gasped and shivered as they passed through a torrent of icy water. The Dark Elf used the hammering force of the water to accelerate toward a massive whirlpool at its base, all the while shrieking out sibilant words of power. The whirlpool spun faster and faster, spiraling against the gorge's walls, and then drawing down into a spinning funnel. Her head swam and whirling darkness took her, as they dropped through the center of the waterspout.

When Sookie's eyes flickered open, the funnel and its howling had been replaced by whistling, frigid air, and streaming phantoms of fog. The stinging wind shrilled and bit at her flesh as they dropped down, down, down... Her stomach clenched. She closed her tearing eyes and willed herself not to cry.

Eric had cloaked himself and used his own powerful magick to close off their bond. Although she couldn't sense his presence, she knew that nothing except final death could keep him away from her and the small bright spark of new life that grew within her. If it was only her life, she would risk breaking the cloaking magic and reach across the bond to beg him to save himself. She _could not_ think of her vital, brilliant husband's magnificent body flaking away into nothingness.

_The taste of his lips, the brush of fingertips, the feel of him moving inside me, the way our eyes meet and, most of all, the love, sometimes unspoken but always there, flowing like a river between us._

She would face death alone and the journey to Summerland to await rebirth, but if Eric met the true death, Valkyries would swoop his warrior spirit across the worlds to Asgard—to Odin's Valhalla or Freya's Folkvanger—the halls of the valiant slain. And if death took him, would they ever reunite?

_I can't bear to think of separation. Neither can Eric. He'll come whether I want him to or not. _

She reached toward her womb and brushed the pulsing miracle, no bigger than a peanut. No, she wouldn't will him to stay away, even if she could. Their baby, the fruit of their love, deserved life. They would both fight to the brink of Ragnarök for that chance. If the nine worlds toppled around them and they died, at least they'd go down fighting; at least they'd go down together.

Her captor dove deeper and deeper, between craggy walls, dipping under a roof of glittering rock, yet still speeding ever downward. The endless passage wound and turned, finally broadening into a huge cavern. Deep in its farthest depths, the dull red ropes of a churning river of magma cast an evil glow on the cavern's floor.

High above them, a mighty ledge of rock sloped down from the roof. Before them, a gigantic slab of rune-carved adamant cast long, wavering shadows over battalions of Ulswater Fae, Dark Elves, packs of Fenris Weres, clans of Vampires, Demons, and several phalanxes of sinewy clawed creatures whose shapes rippled and wavered like eerie holograms. Red, yellow, and opalescent eyes flickered, and snarls of hatred, distrust, and red blood lust rumbled in the air. But Sookie saw that all of the species she could read were held in check by overwhelming fear and awe of the gargantuan intelligence and malice emanating from the massive form sprawled atop the rune-warded slab. It was this Being's iron will that ruled them.

Even as his massive biceps and corded muscles writhed beneath invisible bonds, the restrained colossus' overwhelming aura left her in no doubt that she stood in the presence of Loki. Despite his agony, he was beautiful—more beautiful than any male among humans or supernaturals. Eric's beauty was the rugged splendor of a battle-tried warrior at the peak of his prowess. But Loki's physical perfection transcended anything a lesser being could hope to achieve. Flame red waving hair shot with russet and cinnabar flowed over the stone, and his vivid green eyes, brilliant as faceted emeralds, projected a deep ancient magic as they stared into the cold eyes of a colossal snake rearing above him. The serpent bobbed, hissing, and twisting, trying mightily to lash him with its venom,but the dripping poison was always captured by an ancient stone vessel, held in the hands of a haggard, desperate-eyed woman.

This battle of magicks between the supernaturals took Sookie's breath away, and the surging waves of Loki's power crashed over her until she lost herself in the raging current of his will. As Loki stared the snake into submission, Sookie found herself rooting for him. _For something so fine and powerful, blood-brother to Odin, to be chained to that rock for eternity! The despair of it…of course he should seek vengeance! And he would have it._

Then…Eric! Like a dash of cold water, the thought of her husband loosened Loki's spell. Resisting Loki's magick, she focused on reinforcing her psychic shields. This beautiful creature was more deadly and evil than any she had ever encountered. Though some humans, some vampires and some Weres were wanton killers, most killed only for survival,but Loki had killed gentle Baldur out of simple jealousy. He took brazen pleasure in his kills, in the confusion wrought by his cunning plots, and in the sorrow and pain that he caused. She'd have to be one very clever mouse to escape the big cat in this den.

The battle lust had taken him and he was mightily roused. Below rippling muscles, a huge erection strained amid wild russet curls. _Any woman would want him… _

The massive ribcage rose. The cavern's air crackled and throbbed, heavy with the hot metal scent of dark, conflicting magicks, and pulsing strands of Wyrd seemed to bind the gathered beings even closer to the drama now taking place—the drama that would herald Ragnarök.

Then a collective sigh and a triumphant roar rose up as the serpent writhed away from Loki's gaze to hang limp as a piece of discarded rope, its gaping maw now empty of menace. For the first time in eons, Loki's huge hand lifted above the huge runestone. Grinning broadly, he seized his tormentor, twisting the head from its body and dropping it into his wife's outstretched bowl. With one final hiss, the snake's head dissolved in its own venom as Loki's minions roared and clanged weapons against shields. His loyal wife cast the bowl and its grisly contents into the river of fire and threw herself upon him, weeping with joy as he stroked her shining flaxen hair for the first time in millennia. He shifted to his side and lounged like a Roman at an orgy. A slight frown creased his perfect brow as he tested his bonds. Ah! The bonds were loosened but not severed. Loki could move upon the stone, but he couldn't get up to lead his army into Ragnarök. Not yet.

_Never_, Sookie hoped.

He reclined on his side—supine perfection. His voice was deep and melodious. "Behold! Our victory is at hand! The Aesir and their minions tremble. The fangs that dropped venom upon me age upon age are no more. Very soon Odin will pay for my agony. The Gjallarhorn will sound as Garm howls, and a New order will rise from the ashes of Ragnarök! Give homage to your Lord and Master!"

The Dark Elf forced Sookie to her knees as Loki's armies prostrated themselves before him.

His voice flowed over her like sweet wine laced with poison. So hard to resist, opening her psychic doors, _just one sip._ She struggled to close herself off, as the heavy weight of the Jottun's attention focused upon her.

_Damn! He's so strong. _

He smirked and raised an eyebrow. _That_ _I am, my beauty. You'll find out just how strong. _

Dark magic coiled around his deep, hypnotic voice. "Who visits me in my hour of victory?"

The Dark Elf spoke, its harsh voice tremulous. "It is I, Nari, my lord. I have brought the woman."

Loki's voice was honey laced with glamour. "So, I see. You will profit greatly from this service, Nari. Bring her to me. Let me look upon her."

Sookie assumed the slightly glazed pleasant expression of a glamoured human. The clever emerald eyes regarded her with vast amusement. Nari scrambled to his feet and sprang up onto the huge stab of stone, dragging Sookie forward with an iron grip on her arm. They knelt again near the Jottun's's head. Sookie raised her eyes, and felt an adrenaline rush from her head to her toes. He was vast, ancient, beautiful, and from all that she had learned and experienced, utterly self-serving and without conscience. Like many evil people she had encountered, he was also amazingly seductive. Her gift had by necessity made her a good actress and she knew that tonight's performance had better be Oscar quality.

She must let him see that flicker of truth—her genuine admiration for his beauty. He mustn't perceive her revulsion or the game was up. She had no doubt that she was a player in a deadly endgame.

"Look at me my lovely, what do you see?"

She raised her head and willed herself to look. Let him feel her admiration for his glorious form, if not the twisted being that lurked within it. He was very masculine with a broad forehead, high cheekbones, a straight nose, and full ruddy lips. The mark of the serpent's venom, a terrible scar that trailed across his forehead and along his right cheek, was healing before her eyes. He was a flame, a torch, a sparkling ruby. He was also the Trickster and Betrayer who murdered his brother's son and sought the destruction of the nine worlds. His luminous emerald eyes and his magic traveled over her, probing her dazzled senses.

Sookie walked on a knife edge. She had to give in just enough, let him perceive the admiration, and the beginnings of arousal. Thrusting her revulsion and rage into the terrible hidden place where she kept her darkest pain and secrets, Sookie trembled, sighed, brushed her hands over her nipples. Her voice needed to be tinged with just the right shade of lust and fear.

"I see beauty and power my Lord."

Loki smiled, closed his eyes, and inhaled her scent. "It has been many ages since I have held a beautiful mortal woman," he purred. "Take off your clothes and come to me. You will enjoy my embrace."

An electric ripple ran up her spine. Blue sparks—then the fierce blue flames of Eric's rage blazed across their bond. That too she locked away. Trust was the keystone of their relationship; he'd know she had reasons. Her job just then was to divert Loki's attention until the supernatural cavalry came over the hill. She hoped that they would arrive quickly, because she had no intention of getting any closer if she could help it. No. Eric's rage was not for her, but for the thing that forced her to behave like a courtesan or a fangbanger but squeamishness was not an option.

She batted her eyes and smiled seductively, then closed her eyes and licked her upper lip, "Oh yes my Lord," she breathed.

Slowly she unbuttoned her shirt, unhooked her bra, and displayed her magnificent, full breasts. In the early stages of pregnancy, her skin glowed, and her breasts were voluptuous and creamy. She cupped them and smoldered at Loki as his eyes devoured her.

"Faster!" he growled.

She groaned inwardly as Kirsten tapped her mind, but with a coy smile, shimmied out of her jeans and stood before the Jottun wearing nothing but a lacey white thong.

Loki groaned and stroked himself. "You are magnificent, just as you were described by one who knows you well. He wanted you, but he will have to settle for less. When I am victorious, you shall become my concubine. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Sookie looked down and hoped that Loki couldn't read her thoughts. " I'm honored that you find me worthy, my lord."

Red rage slammed across the bond. Sookie sucked in her breath with the force of it and had to pretend that she was admiring Loki's enormous, rock-hard erection.

"Come to me now," Loki purred. "You'd like to pleasure me, wouldn't you? Come my love, run your hand along my cock, then your lovely mouth."

Sookie blinked and smiled inanely, while berserker rage slammed across their bond as Eric uncloaked and flew toward them screaming a war cry.

He landed in front of her with seax and spatha poised. It was the kind of act that made Pam grind her fangs and accuse him of recklessness. But Eric understood the game of war. What seemed recklessness could be a diversion.

Eric always had a plan.

He lunged at Loki who laughed heartily as several bearded Vamps tackled him.

"Ulswater! Fetch the chain!"

"As you desire my Lord."

The Fae Lord Sewell Ulswater stepped forward with a very long silver chain. Eric beheaded two attackers, before a Goliath-like vampire slammed into him, weakening him enough for Ulswater to bind him securely. Sookie screamed and launched herself at Ulswater. He sneered, flicking his wrist as if shooing away a fly, and Sookie went sprawling against Loki's unyielding side.

"Hand her to me now." Loki's voice was cold and hard. "Now is the time for my release." He raised his voice, "Now is the time for Ragnarök!"

The gathered horde howled and bellowed, rabid to start the battle that would bring them power beyond their wildest dreams.

Ulswater lifted Sookie and thrust her beneath Loki's hugely muscled right arm. Loki clamped her against his chest, taking a moment to fondle her breasts, and run his hand over her body.

"You played a clever game, my dear, but my games are always better. They are, after all, my strength. Your man forfeited his turn when he lost control—as I knew he would." He smiled wryly at Eric whose blue eyes blazed, skin smoking as he strained against his bonds.

"You have a clever little wife, Eiríkr. She plays the trickster game well, but I knew you would not allow her to be violated. Although," he caressed Sookie who was attempting to bite him, "I think that she would have performed to the full extent to win this game. She shares that proclivity with me."

Eric growled, "I'll kill you, Jottun or no!"

Loki glared at Eric. His emerald eyes glowed with a preternatural light. Waves of dark magic rolled from him, shaking the chamber.

"No, it is you who will die. You and all those of Midgård, Alfheim, and Asgard who refuse to worship me." Loki squeezed Sookie until she cried out. "But there is a chance for you to reenter the game…I'll kill your beautiful woman right here before your eyes unless you choose to play your part…"

Eric fixed his eyes upon Sookie. It had taken many years, but he knew that this courageous, magnificent scrap of a woman meant more to him than his own life, more than his own gods. "What is it that you wish me to do?"

Loki smiled. His victory was so close. "You must release your blood bond and all of the magic that is tied to it. It is the last magical bond created from the Aesir magic that binds me. You must both release it now, or your woman dies." Loki squeezed her again.

Through waves of pain, Sookie thought about the bond that she had initially loathed, then tolerated, and finally come to cherish with gratitude. Gratitude for the closeness it had given two proud individuals who might never have admitted their love without it, gratitude for the beautiful daughters who were fruits of the bond.

Her daughters! Sookie's heart began to would happen to their girls if the magic that helped form them was released and made null? Would they, too, simply wink out of existence as if they had never been? And what of the last battle? Releasing the bond would unleash Ragnarök upon all the worlds. What chance of survival did any of Loki's enemies have then?

She reached across the bond flooding Eric with her love, and her own resolve. She touched her husband's mind, knowing that in this extremity, she would reach him.

"No Baby, don't do it. No matter what, my life's not worth the cost. Think of our girls. Think of what this monster will do to all of the worlds if he wins."

Eric gazed at Sookie, pushing back his own pain and resolve to consider his mate's desperate message.

Loki squeezed again. "You hesitate. Don't think that I won't kill her. I have waited too long for this moment. I, whom Odin bound with my own wolf sons' sinews. As soon as they touched my body, my sons' guts and muscles turned into bands of iron, and bound me to this rock through the ages. And all because I killed Odin's son, the ridiculous, gentle Baldur!" "

He looked at Eric again. "Now Viking, that serpent hangs dead above me. You must consider well and make the right move, for if I would kill the son of the King of the Aesir, do you think that I will hesitate to crush the life out of your woman?"

**_8888888888888_**

**Will Eric dissolve the bond? Should he?**

**__****I promised my kids that they could go to Red Robin when I hit one thousand reviews and they've been waiting a looong time. **

**__****My 1000**_**th**__** reviewer can pick from a selection of short stories ideas, both naughty and nice. I will write said ff dedicated to that reader.**_  


**Hope you enjoyed.**

**Happy Holidays**


	22. Chapter 23

_A/N: Thanks for being loyal readers and for all of the reviews, story alerts, and favorite author/story listings._

_**Congrats to **__**Siberian shewolf, my 1000**__**th**__** reviewer!**_

_ She chose a lemony one shot for her winner's fic. I'll have that for y'all in the New Year. The link to The Angel Band's terrific song is on the bottom of my Profile page._

_**Huge Thanks to AmaZen and FDM, my incredible brilliant betas.**_

_**Due to the holidays, I edited this myself, so all errors are my fault.**_

_**8888888888888**_

_**I'd go through the fires of hell for you**_

_**I'd swim to the bottom of the well for you**_

_**I'd brave a lion's den for you**_

_**And then I'd do it again for you**_

_**I'd swim the seven seas for you**_

_**I'd get down on my knees for you.**_

_**Mountains I will move for you**_

_**I'll get down in the groove for you**_

_**I'll move heaven and earth for you**_

_**I'll fight for all I'm worth for you**_

_**I'll swear undying love for you**_

_**I'll thank heaven above for you…**_

_**By Nancy Josephson of The Angel Band **_

_**888888**_

"_Del! I need you!"_ Stan's voice shattered the stillness of her mind.

She gasped and answered without words. "_I'm coming! Where are you?_"

"_Staked Plains. Red Wall. Downcanyon_."

She focused the entire force of her being upon him and willed her perception through the barriers between the worlds. Black fright swept through her. He was alone, terribly alone, on a descending ribcage of cliffs. Lost and half-blinded by his own blood, he counted the flaking mounds that had been his retinue. Then his second, Siobhan, stumbled to his side, her sword raised, as vague, indefinable things circled, darted, and drew blood. His eyes locked upon Adele's as shimmering ripples of darkness enclosed him.

"_It will be over soon darlin'. Then I'll come to you. One way or another I'll come to you."_

"_No Stan! Don't go!"_

Her eyes flew open. She stirred in Odin's powerful arms.

His grip tightened as he murmured, "Mine."

And she was his. But would her desires matter to him? Bonded and transformed by Odin's magick, she had yet to test her new powers.

There was no help for it, she has to wake him.

She whispered, "My Lord!"

Placing slender fingers on his temple, Adele penetrated layers of thought no human could comprehend and hammered Odin with her violent vision.

He shifted, cupped her breasts, and kissed her neck. "It is a trick. The enemy seeks you."

She propped herself on one arm so that their eyes met. "It doesn't matter. The vision's true. If I don't act quickly those things will kill Stan. He _needs_ me, my lord. I have to go to him. "

Odin frowned, his eye piercing and level under drawn brows, a watchful fixity in his face.

"And what of my needs, lady? You have duties and obligations beyond Stanislaus of Texas's existence. Would you risk yourself to save him? Can you believe that he desires that you do?"

She shook her head.

"No. Stan wouldn't want me anywhere near danger. But, even here in Asgard, we aren't safe—not with Ragnarök so close." Her fern green eyes glittered.

"_You_ made me strong for the sake of the Aesir and the Nine Worlds. The creatures that attacked Stan in my vision can't harm me now; no demon, Vampire, or Fae warrior can harm me. I'll go to Stan first; then I'll go to battle for the Aesir."

Odin tucked a strand of Adele's flaxen hair behind her delicately pointed Fae ear.

"It's true that we need your aid beloved. It is also true that I love you and would not have you risk your life needlessly. Much has passed while you healed. But you are strong now and can bear to know what has passed, what is, and what may come to be. Look across the world with the far seeing vision that I have given you."

Gently, he directed her vision.

The Nine Worlds vibrated with rage and tension. Adele looked with horror upon the chaos and wars of Midgard— Vampires and Fenris Weres locked in battle with opposing kingdoms—humans on the brink of world war. She cried out as she witnessed Zeline, limp, bruised, and bleeding, tended by Claudine within the Brigant stronghold in Alfheim. She looked farther and beheld Kirsten, Toller and a mass of hidden deities and supernatural beings waiting for a signal upon the borders of the lowest world. She sobbed as her gaze passed Svartalfheim, the realm of the Dark Elves, and came to rest within the cavern before the gates of Hel where her mother and father were tortured before the Jötun. She beheld the huge army massed against them across the Nine Worlds and the fragile partition between her visions and reality crumbled.

Odin smiled sadly. "_This_ is the wyrd for which you were fashioned. This time on the brink of Ragnarök. We old gods _cannot_ act first. If we do, it is our wyrd to bring about our own doom. But you are an entirely new being. You are not bound to the prophesy that binds us. Act first, strike the first blow, and we can avert Ragnarök. You must reach you parents. You and your sister must act in accord with them. Only then, can the Aesir act. Are you ready?"

The sight of her parents' humiliation, her mother stripped bare and her powerful and seemingly indestructible father bound with silver, hardened her resolve.

"Yes. I'll do what I need to do." Adele lifted her chin. "But, I'll rescue Stan first."

"This is your first act as my lady and as queen of the Alfar?" He asked with deceptive calm.

She answered with quiet firmness. "No my Lord. My first act as your lady was to embrace what I have become. This is my first act as the queen of Texas."

Odin let out a long audible breath. His hand slipped up her arms, bringing her closer as he whispered into her hair. "Over the ages I have loved many women but you, my Svass Bru, stand unique amongst them. You will link the worlds and balance their demands. My powers and names are myriad. But for the Svass Bru I would be _Farmognuðr_**, **the "Journey Empowerer," _Vegtamr_ the "Way Tamer," and _Óski_, the "Fulfiller of Desire."

"A great responsibility rests upon you, beloved. Every action you take, or fail to take, will affect universal forces. You are the unknown that Loki cannot fathom. Your choices will reverberate through every strand of the Great Web of Wyrd. The worlds stand at the point of division, balanced upon a knife edge. One path is easier, one carries more of sacrifice. Are you still determined to take the path of sacrifice?"

Her beautiful face shone with strength and steadfast serenity. "I am ready."

He searched her face reaching into her thoughts. His eyes softened.

"Then, go to him. But be prepared to bleed. Your choice will change the Vampire species. You have given Stanislaus of Texas the gift of your love. Your king will draw you to his side as he did once before. You must use your new powers and act swiftly if you wish to save Stanislaus of Texas. The Aesir and our allies will act as soon as you have accomplished you task. "

####

Drawing energies through the crown of her head, Adele expanded her consciousness until Stan's register sounded through the long bones of her body. She followed the vibrations through time and space across arid grassland and plowed ground that stretched into the distance like a corduroyed sheet.

Detecting a powerful register, she landed and stood in the grass along a remote highway casting about for supernatural registers, looking for tracks in the brown dirt, testing the air. The sere wind keened and surged through a million cotton plants with a sound like surf. The acrid smell of ammonia fertilizer overwhelmed the empty miles. Something gnawed at the fringes of her consciousness. Like some immense parasite, it fed on her vitality, tugged at her will, urged her to let the Llano's vast emptiness swallow all hope of finding and saving the man she loved.

_No I won't believe that the only choice that's left is death. Giving up isn't an option. I'll weave the future from the strands I'm holding now._ _Giving up negates the possibility that I can and will save Stan and change things for the better. I need to put in an emergency call for help._

She closed her eyes calling upon spirits of the land and air for assistance. She had the power to draw them now. Heartbeat upon heartbeat she searched and beckoned them. But she felt nothing except the keening wind. When she was about to give up, she heard, faintly at first and then more strongly, the haunting loon song of an ancient flute rippling toward her, filling her with joy. As a child, she had heard the same haunting melody echoing like birdsong across the hills of Stan's estate. She'd wanted so badly to follow the comforting music to its source, but her parents had forbidden it.

As the melody grew stronger, she perceived a shimmering figure playing a cedar wood flute—Kokopeli, the Flute Player stood before her radiating joy and peace. A shock ran through her as their eyes met.

"Greetings, young goddess. Do you call upon my services as fertility god, prankster, healer, or musician?"

His grin flashed briefly, dazzling against his olive skin. "Or perhaps you call upon me in all of my capacities?"

Del's eyes widened. Like Pan, Kokopeli was greatly revered but seldom encountered. "I am no Goddess, lord."

His grin turned into a chuckle. "I called you 'young goddess' because that is what you are. Perhaps a goddess of music? I called to you with my music once before. Your register is musical – and truly lovely—all woodwinds and strings. I heard it one before in the Hill Country, but the Vampires warded the land; this time you called to me. Others chose to ignore you as you are a foreigner."

His fingers brushed her cheek and a wave of immense power rolled across her. "The aura of The North hangs about you. Has the One-eyed One lost his juice? Do you desire a lustier mate?" Slowly, seductively his gaze slid across her body. Then he touched the evidence of his arousal. "I am willing."

Kokopeli's dark eyes glowed with amusement as Adele flushed.

"I am honored, my lord—but I ask help in finding my Vampire mate and his attackers."

His expressive face became almost somber.

"The Trickster known as Loki is behind this. Soon, all the gods and goddesses will have to take sides. He would draw you into his net. Your cold blooded mate is the bait in the game he plays. "

Despite her fear, she felt a hot and awful joy. "Take me to my king!"

Channeling power, they rose above the Llano's plateau and tableland into its screaming winds until they reached serrated edges where the plateau broke into badlands and sandstone canyons- deep red below the sky's deep blue-black dome.

Before he returned to his home lands, Kokopeli nodded toward a fluted sandstone fin with a knife-blade top. "I leave you here young goddess, but we shall meet again if you are victorious. I am a lover, not a fighter, but I have summoned what land spirits obey me to aid you in your battle."

Stan, his second, Siobhan, and a handful of retainers stood back to back battling a dark mass of creatures that snarled and boiled above and around them. They made their last stand together, their blood stained weapons poised to strike.

Adele burned with white hot rage as she looked down. The air about her crackled with blue flames as she cried out "Odin, husband, hear me! Give me the wits to win this war! Give me rage to strike foes from far! Cover my enemies with death!"

Odin answered. Thunder and lightning struck the ground as he touched Adele with berserker rage. Beyond any thought save the death of her enemies and the life of her mate, Adele screamed out her battle cry.

Her fern green eyes turned the luminous green of the Northern Lights. White-hot fury claimed her as she channeled. The earth glowed molten hot about her feet. The air about her shimmered with power. A corona of light encompassed her and all creatures that met her furious eyes were incinerated.

Stan looked up at her in awe. Surely this glorious Fury was not his gentle Del. She was a blade of lightening, beautiful, dazzling, and lethal.

He roared, "Del—it's no good—Stay back!"

A group of fire demons lunged spewing flames, while air demons showered Stan and his retinue with a rain of poisonous darts. Del streaked toward them calling out to the land spirits in an ancient tongue.

The air hissed and smoked as a blanket of fog engulfed the demons' magick and extinguished the fire. When the fog cleared, Stan lay sprawled in the dirt pin cushioned with darts. Adel cried out and sped toward Stan. Sensing their true quarry the demons hurled themselves at Adele. Fire demons expanded emitting waves of intense heat to engulf her in flames. The soil churned as Earth demons sought to entomb her and the air shimmered with poisonous darts hurled by invisible demons of the air. But she was more than they or Loki had bargained for.

Siobhan stood over her fallen leader and pushed her child Aine's head against her shoulder, "Don't look mo chuisle. It is The War Goddess Morrigan herself that battles our enemies."

She touched the ancient tri-spiral upon her forehead and addressed Adele,"All Hail to thee, Shining One—Queen of the Warrior Women! Weave strong magic for protection-Deep magic to bind and chasten."

As if in response to Siobhan's prayer, massive ropes of energy blazed from Adele's hand. She struck attackers and laughed with delight as she squeezed the soul of each creature from its body and crushed it until it winked out of existence. Thunder boomed and lightening flashed. Stan's surviving retinue clapped their hand to their ears as she shrieked and crushed the last attacker.

The creatures she destroyed were monstrous cannon fodder. Expendable killers. Bigger fish thought that they could escape. Fools! The paths of their retreat were like snail tracks. Compared to her even the vampires among them moved like snails. Adele shrieked and raised her arms. She was Kali, The Morrigan,and Ceridwen— the Ravening Sow. Glowing Cables of sentient energy snaked like lightening along each creature's trail. Within seconds she had hooked her bigger fish. Closing her fist she tugged and hauled in her screaming, gabbling catch. They were too young or stupid to know a goddess when they saw one—but they were too pragmatic not to recognize the reality of their death in her implacable eyes.

Like flies, her enemies hung suspended upon cables of energy: an Ulswater Fae, two of Queen Maude's Vampires, a dead Fenris Were. And what was this? She surveyed the most interesting catch with surprise and revulsion. Dangling in a rumpled bisque white sport shirt, stained tan khakis, and one classic penny loafer was her mother's one time lover, Bill Compton. She would leave him for last.

She searched the others' minds ruthlessly, then crushed and incinerated each in turn until only Bill Compton remained.

For a moment his stony mask vanished. His dark eyes brimmed with regret. "I still love her more than _he_ ever will."

She didn't have to ask who. There was only one "her" for Bill Compton.

Adele stared into his cold dark eyes and wondered briefly what passion, other than the obvious, he had stirred in her mother. Those eyes, like bits of dark stone, had looked upon her mother with hunger and lust and what he thought of as love. He had duped a good, innocent woman, used her, learned her vulnerabilities and lied to her. He had used her body, exploited her abilities and wounded her through betrayal and physical abuse.

Adele tapped into the reservoir of knowledge now open to her and regarded Bill Compton with a sadness that surprised her.

"Love? You've forgotten what the word means. You could have been a good man, Bill. But, you are too small a man for my mother. You never knew or understood her and you could never accept that she left you for good."

She looked at the devastation surrounding them. Her eyes blazed with new anger as they fell upon Stan. "Jealousy destroys love. Your jealousy's destroyed so much! But you've betrayed Sookie _Northman _for the last time."

His mouth spread into a bleak, tight lipped smile. "I have no reason to continue. Kill me."

Adele shook her head. "No. There are others who will want to deliver your death. What you call love is only lust and greed. Until your judgment, I consign you to King Stan's detention chambers where the land spirits will make sure that you do not escape from the wards I place upon you."

She flicked her hand outward and encased Bill in a livid cage of energy. With another flick she transported him to Stan's holding cells accompanied by a host of land spirits.

She dropped to her knees before Stan tearing away his shirt to inspect his wounds. He was drained nearly dry of blood—and had been slashed with weapons. But it was the lethal liquid silver injected by the darts that would kill him. Cradling him against her like a little child, she searched for the bright spark of his spirit amid the wreckage done to him. The river of fast acting silver based poison was spreading through him. If she didn't heal him quickly, he would die.

Siobhan sobbed. "Lady. Forgive us! "

A swift flame of anger swept across Del's face. "You need to gather whoever remains and be ready for battle. Maud and her allies are moving against any kingdom not allied with Loki's cause. Before I forgive, tell me what happened!"

Siobhan's voice trembled as she answered. "The king was inspecting some agribusinesses investments—routine stops. We had troops everywhere, wards were in place. We had satellite surveillance too."

Siobhan shook her head. "They came out of nowhere and just surrounded us. Before the king fell, he said, 'Loki's minions have unlocked the portals between the worlds.' That we mustn't call to you."

Adele's brow creased. "Stan called me. I felt his register!"

"A trick! Stan would never draw you into danger. One of the demons must have had the power to mimic psychic registers."

Adele nodded, "For my part I forgive you. Go now with the remaining troops."

"But the King-"

The force of Adele's seething reply took her off guard. "The King, my pledged, is far safer with me than he is with you. Go!"

When Siobhan and Stan's remaining retinue flew off, Adele warded the space where she knelt with Stan's head upon her lap.

Her voice resonated with power as she bared her wrist, slit it on her seax's edge, and placed it to Stan's lips.

"Stan! Drink! You have to drink from me."

His eyes rolled in his head. "Too late. Let me go darlin'."

She stroked his hair back and squeezed her wrist until blood welled into his mouth. "We're going to win this fight together. I'm not going to let you die."

His hand clamped upon her wrist instinctively and he sucked—regaining tenfold strength with every pull. When she knew that he was healed, she moved her wrist away.

A thin cool vapor, the essence of what had made him Vampire, exuded from his pores.

In her mind she heard Odin's warning and whispered," I don't care. I choose Stan's life in whatever form it takes, over his death."

Stan's transformation was striking. His marble skin glowed with ruddy health and his chest rose and fell above the slow, steady cadence of his heartbeat. But when he smiled his fangs were still in full battle display. Del smiled back.

Stan's heart was in his eyes. "You can't get rid of me now darlin'. I'm coming with you."

She gazed into his eyes as tears spilled down her cheeks, " I had to change you or you would have died. How do you feel?"

"Different. Alive. Like I've just been born."

He interlaced his fingers with hers and kissed her hand. "No guilt. No going back. This is our choice. We go forward together."

He brushed her cheek, his eyes filled with life, pain, and unquenchable love

"Don't cry darlin'. I can't bear to see you cry. You're the one person that can change my world around with a smile."

Del sniffed and wiped her nose in a very ungoddesslike fashion. "Then don't die on me! I'd rather have a good cry on your shoulder than be happy with anyone else "

Her eyes looked beyond Midgard into the depths of despair and chaos. "I'll do whatever it takes to be with you."

**888888888888**

**Gee, Bill's done a lot of damage.**

**Who should get to finish him off?**


	23. Chapter 24

Dark Storm Rising

Chapter 24

_**Thanks AmaZen and FDM for all that you do! **_

_**###  
**_  
_**We weave; we weave the web of the spear**_

_**As on go the standards of the brave**_

_**We shall not let them lose their lives;**_

_**The Valkyries have power to choose the slain**_

_**All is sinister now to see**_

_**A cloud of blood moves over the sky  
**__**And the air is red with the blood of men**_

_**As the battle women chant their song.**_

"The Spear Lay" 11th Century Viking Dublin

_**###**_

Stan and Adele sped through the voids between the worlds. Cloaked in her mantle of power, with her immensely powerful blood singing through his veins, Stan's physical and psychic regeneration transformed him as Adele had been transformed. As he prepared for combat, he slipped into the focused silence of battlemind. She also prepared as she had been taught, acknowledging what she might see, hear, think and feel. But the worst-case scenario was Ragnarök, the Doom of the Gods. Neither Stan's millennia of combat experience, nor her increased powers would fully prepare either of them for the borders of Hella's realm. He reached out to her.

_I'll go with you into the chamber._

_No. I have to go in alone. Loki would detect your register. You'll attack with Toller and Kirs when I give the signal. Prince Ciaran will lead the Fae. The Lady Freya leads a host of Valkyries, and my lords Odin and Thor lead the Aesir and Asynjer. I've learned how to stay cloaked._

She didn't add that she had gained that power through her own transformation.

It was just as well that he had no time to dwell upon the changes now. If they were successful, there would be time to explore those changes. She could feel her sister and a host of heavily cloaked warriors poised before the portal to Hella's realm.

_Kirs!_

Even there in the midst of death and chaos, wild joy surged between them as their minds linked.

_Del! Oh god, Del! We're here—so many supes—Great-great grandfather…and Prince Ciaran. The lady Freya ordered me to wait for your signal._

_It's almost time. Call to Hella Kirs. She'll open the portal for you. She is the wise Crone who decides our fate …even the fate of the gods._

_Toller! _

_He has to accept this—our men have to accept our choices—our sacrifices. _ _Do it. Now._

Crouched and camouflaged behind webs of magick, Kirsten released Toller's hand. She gripped her spatha, centered, reached out, and visualized Hella as only she saw her.

_My Lady, keeper of secrets, ruler of the soul's transitions, hear the voice of your chosen one._

From her sleet cold hall, Hella answered.

_Even here in Elivdnir, I hear you beloved. Know that your request will lay a heavy mantle upon your sister—Odin's lady. My father murdered Baldr, The Beautiful, beloved of the Aesir. Loki's deception and refusal to weep for him kept Baldr in my realm and condemned Loki to writhe beneath the serpent's dripping fangs. Should you will, favored one, I will release Baldr's soul to reincarnate—it is a heavy wyrd for the Svass Bru. I cannot guarantee the outcome of this battle—you may join me shortly or spend many years with your king._

Kirsten gasped—squeezed between the wills of a new and an ancient goddess.

_I love you Kirs. Accept her terms. When she opens the portal, you'll fling the first spear over our enemies' heads._

_###_

Sookie's vision swam. Red hot pain stabbed her. She heard herself scream as Loki squeezed her.

"Release the bond now Viking or I'll break your woman's back."

Eric roared and strained against the silver chains. Red berserker rage rose to claim him. Then Adele tapped his mind and held it at bay as only she could. Beyond her gentle touch, he sensed the immensity of her new powers.

_Pappa! Loki can't sense me, but he'll sense your emotions if not your thoughts. We'll have to play this to the hilt and you have to trust me—us. There are things that Loki can't know. Kirs and I and the baby are protected by our ties to the Aesir. Release your blood bond. It's a seed that has to sprout to become something greater. It will be harder to reach mom because the Jottun's __mental signature is so strong, but I'll find a way. My lord Odin is close, and Thor's belt of strength surrounds you. Play for time. You know when to call The Rage down."_

Adele nearly cried aloud when she saw the Jottun squeeze Sookie and threaten her with death. She breathed deeply and searched for a crack in the Jottun's magical defenses. As Loki focused his attention upon Eric, she found a chink and darted through, touching her mother's mind.

Although Adele's touch was a light as a down feather, Sookie felt the differences in her daughters' mental signature. Even in Loki's arms, at the probable end of her earthly existence, she feared for Adele.

_Don't worry about me. Listen, but don't respond or Loki will sense me. You have to trust me—we have to release the bonds. Loki's playing Texas Hold 'Em with us, but his hand isn't as strong as he wants us to think. Something wonderful can still happen for all of us. Release the bond._

Sookie's mind relaxed slightly. She'd gotten the message! Adele gave her mother the equivalent of a mental hug, then flew back through the chink as Loki turned his attention back towards Sookie.

She felt Kirsten reach out to her. The Aesir's army was poised to strike. Upon her signal, men and women whom Adele loved and revered, would burst through the portal risking their lives. To succeed , she must use her new found strength and knowledge as well as the core of serenity that was a part of her nature. There was no room for failure.

Kirsten gave Adele a mental poke.

_I want to kill those bastards so bad I can taste their blood!_

Adele steadied her sister. _As soon as mom and dad let go, throw your spear and come to me. I'll need you to ground me_.

_I'll be there for you but, my only strong element is fire. You'll have to help me—I've never channeled that much energy._

_The power in that river of magma is there for you to summon. You'll be my turbo booster. Just grip my waist, channel, and I'll siphon it out of you like gas from a tank. I'll combine it with earth, air and water. Then we'll make that son of a bitch squirm_!

_But last time you channeled, it nearly killed you!_

_It won't kill me now._

Kirsten's eyes widened as Adele gave her a brief glimpse of what she had become.

Behind a cloak of magic, all of the Aesir and their forces waited for a signal that would decide the fate of the worlds.

###

Eric stared at Sookie, playing for time. Let the Jottun feel his emotions. Gods knew his fear and rage were real. Sookie's life was the stake of this deadly game, but now he played with actual hope of survival. Although Loki had shifted Sookie so that Eric couldn't see her face, he felt a relaxation in the bond and knew that Adele had reached her.

It was time to play his hand.

Vampires are possessive and self-serving by nature. Like the Trickster, he would twist the truth to his advantage.

Despite his pain Eric called out, "Swear an oath that you will free us and do us no harm, and we will release our blood bond."

Sookie groaned and called out, "Don't, please," in a weak, defeated little voice.

Loki's laughter rumbled throughout the cavern. His minions became deathly still, anticipating their master's release.

"I swear by the three realms, the nine worlds, and by the bond that holds me that I will spare your lives and grant your freedom when you release your blood bond."

Eric clenched his teeth as the silver seared through sinew exposing the bones of his left forearm. He fought to gain control over the pain and spoke firmly.

"Release my woman now and let her come to me. We must drink from each other again as you know, and you must draw the magic out as we drink. It will be easy enough to kill us both if we do not obey you, and she cannot unwrap my chains quickly enough to spare me from your wrath."

Loki hesitated and searched Eric's eyes.

"Fair enough."

He raised his forearm and gave Sookie a little shove. She slid off of him and onto the rock.

"Lord Ulswater, take this and bring it to its mate. It is good to know that I am not the only betrayer of friends and family. Ragnarök is the price of your freedom."

Ulswater grabbed Sookie and jerked her to her feet. She gritted her teeth. A rib had definitely been cracked from the squeezing. But she squared her shoulders, lifted her head and walked to her husband as if she were a queen and Ulswater her servant.

Eric's eyes blazed with pride.

Sookie looked into Eric eyes, feeling his fierce love and his pride wash over her.

_How ironic._ She thought briefly._ Here we go again! After all of these years, another forced blood exchange__. But this time it's the letting go that's going to be bitter. _

The bond had seemed a curse, a burden, and finally a gift. Grounded in a bond, their love had erupted like an earthquake; unpredictable and terrifying as its beginning had been—in the nearly two decades that followed the birth of their girls, she had learned how incredibly lucky she was. The bond might be severed—but their love? Never. She looked into Eric eyes and touched his mind.

_I believe that there's more for us._

_Don't be afraid._

_The only thing that I'm afraid of is losing you._

His heart was in his eyes._ You won't. Not now—not ever._

Sookie unwrapped the smoking silver from Eric's terribly burned arms. He would need to bite into his wounded wrist to get the blood flowing. He brought it to his mouth, bit and offered it to her. Sookie brought Eric's wrist to her lips kissed it, and latched on drawing strongly while she extended her wrist to him. She felt his cracked lips brush her skin in a gentle kiss. Then he bit and drew her in. He would need her blood to heal quickly, as she would need his.

They locked eyes as Loki's magic pulled and sucked at the bond. Tears flowed down Sookie's cheeks. Although he stood before her, her inner sense of her husband's presence faded as their bodies healed. The blood bond that had had been the heart of their marriage was drained away. The inner sense of joy and comfort-a constant warmth that she had taken for granted for years was gone. Loki laughed. A white haze played around him as the bond's magic engulfed him. The bonds about his arms and torso shattered. For the first time in millennia, Loki stood and stretched.

His minions howled and banged upon their shields and began to chant "The Bound One Rises! The Bound One Rises."

Sookie stopped drinking as Eric licked her wrist.

They gazed at each other-weighing the absence. "Yes," their eyes said, "He has destroyed a vital sense-and he's taken a part of our souls with it."

Loki raised his fist and bellowed, "Victory! Death to the Aesir!" as his minions roared their approval.

The ground shook as he stepped toward his army. He was beautiful and terrible; a king returned from the dead to deliver destruction and oblivion upon his enemies. Eric pulled Sookie into the shadows. Now that they had given the Jottun freedom, they were as unimportant as worms. Sewell Ulswater knelt before the Jottun.

"Your sword, Utgardr, my lord. Hail Loki!"

Sookie shuddered against Eric. They had failed. Loki would fulfill the ancient prophesy. The worlds would be utterly consumed, and all that they loved and held dear would perish.

She reached inside to touch the emptiness that had replaced their bond. The pain, at least, would be proof that they were still alive. She gasped. Like a small flame that grows stronger, the emptiness was replaced with a growing light. Beneath the magic of the blood bond, hidden and nurtured through the years, a new connection had grown.

Rooted in bonds of love and commitment, grounded in the magic of their natures, its deeply intertwined roots reached from his soul to hers. The blood bond which had been born of their physical natures—of their very blood—had been supplanted by a bond of the spirit—an eternal bond that united their hearts and souls, strengthened their commitment, and allowed their magicks to combine for their protection. Adele called its power forth to stun Loki with a blinding light, just as Kirsten's war scream sounded. Like a meteor, her blazing spear flashed above Loki's head and arced across the heads of his army. The river of magma blazed into a wall of fire behind the enemy.

Loki bellowed, and began to thrash wildly as cables of power snaked up his body binding him in a glowing, unbreakable web.

Simultaneously, a gigantic rope of energy streaked across the rock, fusing with the light of the newly released wyrd bond. Loki's minions groaned and shrieked with rage as it snaked around Loki's thrashing form, and bound him back upon the rock.

As if a massive dam had broken, the Aesir and their retainers flooded the cavern with their light and battle fury. Eric and Sookie stood on the edge of the slab as the stench, screams, howls, and groans of a vicious battle surrounded them. Neither side would ask for quarter. Neither would give up until every enemy was exterminated.

The coils continued to engulf Loki until he was encased in a cocoon of pulsating energy. A figure advanced toward them, blindingly brilliant, radiating and controlling the elements she combined and cast upon the Jottun. Her long, fine hair billowed in a nimbus of light, and she looked like an archangel. It was Adele Northman, daughter of three heritages, future Queen of Texas, Lady of the Aesir, and the new Queen of the Fae of Alfheim. She alighted next to her parents.

Adele and Sookie deftly removed Eric's remaining chains. Three colossal presences passed them and came to stand by Loki—one eyed Odin, the great all father, beautiful, golden Freya of the Valkyries, and a huge powerful man with a red beard, flowing hair, and flashing blue eyes. It was the thunder god Thor, mighty son of Odin, and protector of both gods and humans against the forces of evil. He raised the hammer Mjolnir as Odin and Freya renewed the elemental chains that had once bound Loki. As Odin called out words of power, invisible hands thrust Loki down upon his rocky bed. When Mjolnir struck, the glowing web surrounding the Jottun fused with his elemental chains, binding him securely once again.

Guarded by Toller, Kirsten flew up to join her family. Although her body was red with blood and gore, she smiled beatifically and hummed Queen's "We are the Champions." Adele nudged her and she grew quiet in the presence of the Aesir and Asynjer.

The Aesir's army ruthlessly dispatched the groaning, shrieking enemy. There would be no prisoners of war in this battle.

Odin spoke first.

"You played your hand well, Loki, but the Aesir have won. Thanks to my Lady Adele and her kin, the web of wyrd has a new design. My son, whom you murdered and imprisoned in the underworld, will be reborn. Balance will be restored. There will be peace among the worlds. You've always thought too highly of your own cleverness, and never stopped to consider that I might have been making my own plans for a millennium or two."

Odin chuckled.

"And you never really figured out the game. When you joined the Aesir, you loved to stir up fights and discord, but you have always underestimated the power of a united family, as these wonderful, strange little women have proven."

Just then, there was a tremendous flash of light to their right. The Fae lord Sewell Ulswater and his forces shrieked and surged against phalanxes of Brigant Fae. Prince Niall and his retainers surrounded Ulswater's troops and held them at bay. The prince and Ulswater circled each other. Prince Niall dodged a flash of dark magic that seared the air, then slammed Ulswater with a fiery bolt and rushed in for the kill. Ulswater blasted the prince back. Adele, Kirsten, and Sookie cried out as Niall struck the ground. Kirsten and Toller flew down to the prince, swords at the ready.

Sookie started forward, but Eric's iron arm restrained her and pulled her back to him.

"No lover, you're staying with me. You've seen enough of battle for today." Sookie sighed, her eyes on the standoff. She'd seen enough battle for a lifetime. But it wasn't quite over yet.

Ulswater regained his his feet. Most of his minions were dead or as good as dead, but he was powerful, vicious, and cornered. He had no intention of going down alone and would take as many enemies with him as he could.

Suddenly, Adele was in front of him blazing with a blindingly pure white light. Eric started to fly down to stand by his daughter, but the goddess Freya restrained him.

"This is her wyrd. Watch and be proud for she will fulfill it gloriously."

Ulswater regarded her with venomous hatred, but the cold waves of his fear also touched her mind.

He hurled bolt after bold of dark magic at Adele. She batted them away effortlessly, patiently waiting for his magic to become depleted.

She regarded him calmly as she raised her hands drawing on the earth beneath his feet.

"It's time for Hella to welcome you as her permanent guest, you son of a bitch. You are, after all, her father's biggest fan!"

Before Ulswater could retreat, the ground opened beneath him and a huge, livid, dirt encrusted hand grabbed him by the throat and dragged him down.

An ominous silence filled the cavern.

Freya shrugged her lovely shoulders and cast one last look at the still form encased in its elemental cocoon, "Well, that'll teach him."

Toller lifted Niall, just as Claudine rushed over to support him, "I'll take the prince back to Alfheim."

She glanced at Adele, ignoring Stan's glare, "And you, my queen, must come as well for a little while before you join King Stanislaus. You have so much to learn and you'll need to consolidate your power. All of Ulswater's territory will go to you of course."

Stan wrapped his arms around Adele as she sagged against him. "Just give me a minute, OK?"

Claudine nodded.

Adele touched Stan's face.

_It won't always be like this. We have time now. Lifetimes. _

His arms tightened against her as he brushed her lips.

_I don't want to let you go. I don't want to see the other men in your life. But if that's the price I must pay to have you, I'll accept it. Your heart holds so much love. I'm blessed that it holds mine._

Eric had lifted Sookie down onto the cavern floor, and they waited as their daughters approached.

No one spoke as they all linked arms and held each other in silence, glad to be alive, glad to be together. There was an ocean of experiences they had to process, but not now, not here.

Sookie finally broke the silence. She kissed Adele, "So, I'll meet you at the crossroads real soon I hope."

Adele smiled. "I'll make sure it's soon."

Adele kissed her family one last time, returned to the prince and Claudine, and vanished.

Toller joined them.

"The Sky Fae tell me that it's night again in your part of Midgård. We will rest in a retainer's home in Iceland today, and return to Sweden at nightfall where we may hold a victory feast and announce our marriage banns.

Eric nodded. "Then we should all leave now. I accept your hospitality, but respectfully insist that Kirsten return to Louisiana, accompanied by an appropriate honor guard, following the feast and banns."

Kirsten glared at her father. "You can't send me back! We are handfast!"

Sookie shook her head and Eric snorted. "A year and a day, even by the Lady Freya's decree, does not a marriage make. You are a Daughter of the Blood and a future queen. This…arrangement…must be formalized by contracts and the details of the ceremonies and celebrations must be resolved between the kingdoms."

Kirsten sputtered, but Toller stilled her with a touch. "Your father is right Svass. We must obey the protocol, for the sake of both kingdoms. We will need strong allies. The war between the Vampire kingdoms isn't over. Valur Sigurdsson's allies will not surrender without a fight. Perhaps, King Stanislaus will do me the honor of accompanying you?"

Stan inclined his head. "It would be my honor. But I hope you simmer down before Toller visits you in the States."

Toller's lip quirked. "Depends how she simmers. Better a happy woman in a messy bed, than an angry woman in a neat one."

The men laughed while Kirsten flushed scarlet and slapped Toller playfully, but hard enough to know that she meant business.

Toller captured her hands and kissed them. " I promise you that I will return as soon as current matters have been dealt with."

He smiled gleefully. "It seems, my queen, that we have acquired Sigurdsson's kingdom."

####

**Is it time to kill Bill Viking style?**

I worked hard ( and so did my betas). Please review.


	24. Chapter 25

Chapter 25 _**  
**_

_**A/N: **__Well, I though ol' Bill was going to meet his makers ( both vampire and celestial) in this chapter, but my betas and I decided that that blessed event deserved its very own chapter, so stayed tuned for chapter 26. Sigr is the Old Norse word for "victory." An idée fix is an idea that dominates one's mind especially for a prolonged period. The song I quote is "A Heart Needs a Home," by Richard Thompson. You can find it on YouTube._

**Heartfelt thanks to my betas-wonderful, brilliant AmaZen & FarDareisMai2. You are my main girls!**

**####**

_**I know the way  
That I feel about you  
I'm never going to run away  
I'm never going to run away  
Never knew the way  
When I lived without you  
I'm never going to run away  
I'm never going to run away…**_

_**Tongues talk fire and  
Eyes cry rivers  
Indian givers  
Hearts of stone  
Paper ships and  
Painted faces  
The worlds no place when  
You're on your own  
A heart needs a home**_

_**#####**_

Accompanied by Claudine and a host of unseen guardians, Sookie huffed up a steep path bordering the woods of their Louisiana estate. She paused to catch her breath and rub the small of her back wishing that Eric was there to rub it for her and apply his skillful fingers to other parts of her anatomy while he was at it. But Eric was a thousand miles away with the allied forces putting an end to Queen Maude and claiming the kingdom of Minnesota for the Northmans.

Birth, she reflected, is a painful, messy affair and in that respect, the birth of a new kingdom is no different. She'd had enough of war and death, of arrogance and hatred. She wanted her husband in their bed, touching along the lengths of their bodies. She wanted warm breezes over quiet water, kisses, and the mingled scents of her garden in the August twilight. She wanted her son and her grandchildren born into a world where the gift of their lives was accepted and assured. She sighed, and examined her reality without flinching. Beings to whom she was intimately connected, her husband included, believed that war is nature's way of making sure that the strong survive.

Pam's message confirmed that Queen Maude and Sigurdsson's remaining troops had gone to ground in Northern Minnesota. Eric led Vampire kingdoms' allied forces against Maude. He did this to protect his family. The conflict had escalated far beyond any hope of compromise. He must annihilate his enemy (he would say) so that his family could enjoy peace. As the new monarchs of Minnesota, they would wield enough power to safeguard their family. In her heart she knew that he was right. King Felipe was undoubtedly threatened by the Northman's familial connections to two powerful kings and furious that Adele had chosen Stan Davis as her mate. As the girls' lifelong guardian, he could not act openly against them, not yet at any rate. And there would be others waiting in the wings, ready to test Eric's power and the loyalty of his new subjects. Change was inevitable and necessary; there was no point in weeping and gnashing her teeth. She prayed to any deity who might be receptive_. _

_If it must be, let this battle be as brief and brutally powerful as a lightning storm. Let my husband and daughter return victorious. Help me let go of the life I thought we'd have and accept the one that's waiting for me—for us. _

The next phase of their life would take her from all that she had ever known of home and family. Her roots ran deep in Louisiana's soil. She loved the ground she walked on, the earth in which her brother, parents, and grandmother were buried. That love would never leave her. Yes. It hurt to leave the homeplace, but deeper roots connected her to Eric and the future. She was learning to accept the consequences of her long existence. Best to turn away from anxiety and sadness and anticipate all that she and Eric would discover and experience together.

She had visited all of her favorite spots, had wandered around the old Stackhouse property, had placed flowers on her parents', Jason's, and Gran's graves, and had even paid a visit to Merlotte's. Although Émile and Marie Thibodeaux had bought the property from Sam years ago, they'd kept his name and the same casual, retro style the locals preferred. She wasn't that naive young waitress anymore. She was neither better nor worse than that other Sookie. Still, experience had added wisdom and complexity. If anything, she was more comfortable in her own skin, more forgiving of flaws in herself and in others. She recognized that life is change, growth is optional. She touched her belly, looked over her land, and chose growth.

The storm had come up quite suddenly and she wondered whether they'd make it back without getting drenched. Dark angry clouds swirled ominously. Sigr, Eric's bay stallion, reared up, screaming a challenge to the storm. His mane and tail streamed in the wind as he rounded up his mares and drove them away from the woods.

Claudine's face clouded with uneasiness, "We need to get back. This storm will be as bad as the last one."

Sookie watched the horses with concern. "And the one before that. It's been a summer of storms."

Claudine eyed the churning clouds. "As above, so below. The elements reflect the energies still being raised as well as the damage you humans have done with Global Warming. The Aesir and their enemies have a hand in this as well. The confrontation of opposing magicks wrecks havoc upon many worlds."

She beamed. "But it will be over soon. Eric and the Aesir's allies will finish Queen Maude. Then you will be king and queen of Minnesota."

Sookie shrugged wearily. Being the queen of a vampire state was the last thing that she had ever wanted. Best change the subject.

"The horses hate this weather." She turned toward the woods and raised her voice slightly. "Can you go out to them Charles? You always calm them down."

A ropy beard of Spanish moss materialized into a lithe blond Fae with butterscotch eyes.

A golden, fiery mare screamed and broke from the herd, her eyes rolling with fear. Sigr galloped after her then, reared, bared his teeth, and forced her back. When he had tucked her safely between more placid mares, he touched her nose reassuringly.

Charles inclined his head slightly. "Sigr won't let them break ranks again. Shall I lead the horses to the barn?"

Sookie shook her head, patted her stomach, and made soothing noises as the baby nudged her emphatically.

"Best if you just help him calm the mares and bring them to the back pasture—well away from fences and trees. When the lightning stops he'll lead his ladies back to the barn, and not before. He's terrified of being trapped."

"A couple years ago, the girls and I got trapped up there with Sigr and his mares right around sundown in the worst lightning storm ever. He nearly broke his stall trying to get to his womenfolk. Lightning hit the barn so hard, the nails flew right out of the trim wood. Then it hit the electric wire on the paddock fence and shattered the wire into pieces. Another hit burned out the lights and left them smoking while the girls and I huddled under the saddle racks."

Sigr's nostrils flared as he scented electricity on the wind. Charles patted his neck and spoke gently to him, then leapt upon his back. He looked like a centaur as they galloped down the hill's slope.

Claudine chuckled, "That stallion tries to keep his women out of harm's way just like his master."

Sookie snorted. "Sigr has more biddable females to work with. If I wasn't pregnant, I'd be in Minnesota no matter how much Eric roared and threatened. It's my fight as much as his! He couldn't stop Kirsten from hunting Maude down and neither could Toller. I wish that they could have talked sense into her, but I understand why she's there. She said that it was her right; stood toe to toe with Eric and announced, 'If there's fighting to be done, I won't be left at home!' Before Toller could object, the High Gythja stepped in and said that it was Kirsten's right as a priestess and a shield maiden of the Aesir. At least Del and Zee are safe in Alfheim."

Claudine's brow creased. "Adele has other battles to fight in Alfheim. The Brigant and Ó Máille Fae acknowledge her without question, but she must convince other clans that a mixed blood is fit to rule."

Sookie's eyes shone fiercely. "The Fae know what she did to Ulswater and his forces and acknowledge her immense powers and her relationship with Odin ; but she'll win their hearts and loyalty with her intelligence and good heart."

Sookie pressed her lips together and suppressed her anger and sorrow. Loki was rebound. But the cost had been high for the Northmans. No matter how much they loved one another, her transformed daughters would always be separated from her now.

Anything she said about what had been done to Del would come out badly. Besides, she'd heard her great grandfather's rationalizations before. The Fae had mastered the art of talking in eloquent circles. The fact remained that the Aesir and her own great grandfather had transformed Adele. The magnificent butterfly that had emerged to greet her was not the Adele whose high school graduation they had proudly attended a few months past. They had prevented Ragnarök, but their supernatural world was not at peace.

Toller, other Vampire monarchs, and powerful supes would deal with the remnants of Loki's forces elsewhere. What concerned her now was their almost certain future as the king and queen of Minnesota. As queen, she would have to preside over many ceremonies as they consolidated their power. Favors and gifts would be exchanged, justice would be meted out. She would have to take a hand in some of the justice. It was her right and, although Eric might object, her duty.

The particular justice she contemplated related to Bill—false lover, false friend, and now traitor. Bill's betrayal had stunned and wounded her more deeply than she would ever admit. Of course, Eric had felt her fury indignation and sorrow and she would make sure that Bill understood it before his final death.

Her throat tightened with rage and disgust. How had she not sensed the threat? How could a force as bright as love have become so twisted and dark? But his love for her had always been twisted and grounded in deception. He had told her that he loved her, had said that he always would.

What she hadn't comprehended was the fanatical nature of his love. Bill had conveniently dismissed the past eighteen years. He had no sense of who she was. Hell, he'd never even understood the innocent young woman he'd seduced. After he'd lost her to Eric, she had become his idée fix. A husband, children, and eighteen plus years of separation hadn't stopped him from wanting his fantasy version of Sookie Stackhouse .

Before he died, she wanted to ask him why he would have killed her children, her husband, and countless others to have her. The ferocity of her Fae heritage welled in her. Bill had been a real and imminent threat to her family. She would personally make sure that he never troubled them again in this or any other life.

Her thoughts turned back to shelter as a blue-white flash of light spit the clouds followed instantly by a shattering crack in the woods behind them. The air was sharp with the scent of ozone.

Claudine began to glow with a blue-white light.

"It's a good mile to the house from here. I can't risk your safety. Are you up for a bit of Fae magic?"

"Bring it on."

Thunderclaps pealed. The skies opened drenching the women in seconds as Claudine grabbed Sookie's arm and magicked them back to the relative safety of the house. Safely inside, they embraced and watched wind and hail bow and batter fields and woods.

Claudine stroked Sookie's hair. "This will pass. All of this will pass."

"I know. I _know_ it will; Eric will win this fight."

She spoke the words like a talisman, sending her hope and energy up the great artery of the Mississippi to its roots in northern Minnesota, where her husband, Kirsten and the allied forces hunted Queen Maude and the last renegades.

"This will end and we will go on."

But on to what? The words "vampire" and "peace," didn't fit well together. She sensed that, for a little while, there would be a truce of sorts while the dust settled and the supernatural world recovered. But she and Eric would always be on guard now—exploring their strengths, learning all that they could of the powerful kingdoms that posed threats, applying diplomacy while building and strengthening their arsenal. The Northman dynasty, for that is what she and Eric had founded, and its powerful progeny had already rocked the supernatural word to its core. And this was only the beginning.

####

The Fenris Were sprawled, limp and naked, at Kirsten's feet. The rest lay dead—hidden away. Not that anyone was going to search for Were guards. Maude had bigger problems—like saving her immortal skin and her kingdom. This last Were guard had nearly run into them as he rounded a corner. Good. He hadn't expected to find them there. Or maybe he was so intent upon getting the hell out of Maude's kingdom that he'd stopped paying attention to anything else. He'd sputtered that he was a hunter who'd gotten lost, but his sweat stank of fear and of Queen Maude and her vamps. He was a seasoned warrior and had shifted a split second before Kirsten had him by the throat. She sighed. Her father would be disappointed that she hadn't interrogated the Were before slitting his throat from ear to ear, but she did have his backpack and there was definitely an energy source emanating from it.

She checked the backpack for booby traps and found the energy source- a lozenge of obsidian that looked a bit like a dildo. But not one that she'd ever care to use. She'd examine it more closely when they reached the warded rendezvous. Bjorn, Toller's personal bodyguard, was impatient and wanted to get back, so she hoisted the backpack onto her shoulder while Bjorn heaved the Were's body into a brushy ditch. They moved quickly and silently through the unusually quiet woods. It was as if the land spirits and animals had gone to ground. Maybe they just sensed the attack and wanted to stay out of the vampires' way. Maybe not. Land spirits and most animals had nothing to fear from vamps. What else could be troubling them?

They reached the meeting place around midnight. It was new moon. and although the Milky Way flowed across the dome of the sky, the still woods were very dark. Kirsten released the wards that she has placed just enough for them to squeeze through. Then, she scanned for her father's register and bit her lip. It wasn't like Faðir to be late. She lacked Del's ability to chatter over almost any distance and human communication devices were out of the question.

Instead, she squatted and began the methodical process of taking apart and examining everything in the dead Were's pack. She hissed with disgust at a retro photo album displaying pictures of the dead Were engaged in illegal and highly pornographic acts with very young teenage girls. Probably members of Maude's notorious "harem girls," runaways, troubled teens, and human children exchanged for debts their miserable parents owed. When her father became king, that evil would end as far as his authority extended. There would be no trial for the procurers and molesters. If they weren't dead already, they would be very soon.

"Bastard! I'm fucking glad that I killed you!"

She riffled through a wad of cash, gingerly lifted a dirty sweat shirt, sweat pants, a pair of reeking boxers, a canteen of water, and five granola bars, while Bjorn peered over her shoulder. Then she pulled out the cold throbbing obsidian. Bjorn reached out to touch it.

"Hands off!" She hissed. "It's had contact with mudshadows; you know-dark spirits with lots of toxic energy."

She took in several deep breaths and focused, feeling the energy, sinking into it until she detected a net of energy around the stone, and upon Bjorn and herself as well. She placed the stone in the center of the warded space and carefully backed away from it.

Bjorn glanced at the stone and then at Kirsten.

"So what did you learn little one?"

Kirsten's eyes narrowed. "That survival's taken the place of allegiance. If Fenris Weres are deserting, then all of the forces know that Loki's defeated, Sigurdsson's dead, Ulswater's worse than dead, and Maude's as good as dead."

Bjorn grinned broadly showing fang, "They won't get far. But the stone…"

"A stolen 'security device' I'm guessing. And Maude won't be happy when she finds out. Or maybe she's cleverer than we thought. I think it's been energized to work like a remote…or maybe a dog whistle. Usually obsidian's a grounding stone—very healing—great protection against demonic attacks—so its energy looks blue. But someone has altered this stone's energy and it's shot with black shadows, which means, demons, dark matter, something really nasty, is being kept here against its will. I think the stone is drawing it when it should be keeping it away."

Bjorn muttered an invocation to Thor, clutched his hammer pendant, then extended his hand.

"It's my job to protect you. I'll dispose of it."

Kirsten smiled grimly. "Too late for that. We brought it into a protected circle—then I handled it and you were standing right next to me. We're coated with its energy now. If you step outside of the protected space and try to toss it away, the ward won't recognize our altered registers, so you can't get back to safety. If you run, the creature will find you. If it searches your mind, it will still find me and I won't have to _you_ protect me."

"And if we toss it out?"

"We shatter the ward and we're sitting ducks."

"And what of Lord Eric?"

Her father was a brilliant warrior. He could probably protect himself. Probably. Kirsten shifted straining to sense her father's unique register. Silence.

"I don't know! But we can't count on help…"

Bjorn circled the warded space, then paused and touched Kirsten's hand. She stiffened and nodded. They unsheathed their spathas and stood back to back. Something powerful was coming fast and it was not her father.

#####

**If you enjoy Dark Storm Rising-**

**If you appreciate that I write and my marvelous betas do this for free-**

**Please review and let me know that you are reading.**

***hugs***

**M**


	25. Chapter 26

**Dark Storm Rising**

**Chapter 26**

**A/N:** Ásáheill! Aesir's' Blessing! Thanks for your patience.

Writing is hard, hard work. Despite the roadmap I construct, the characters show me the way. This is where they led me. We're almost there –almost to coronations, an execution, weddings and a birth.

Eric tells Maude, "**Í hefnd er gleði," **which means** "gladness is in vengeance." **In Old Norse**,** **Sigfadir** means **"Victory Father,**" the giver of victory in battle and, by extension, in all contests. The Vikings called dueling **einvigi**; literally **"single combat."** The combatants relied on their strength and personal luck (**hamingja****)** to decide the matter. **Surtr **is lord of the fire jötunn**—**a big, bad demon-like guy**. **

A **flamberge**, or **"flame blade"**, is an undulating blade found on both long blades and rapiers. In combat, it transmits unpleasant vibrations into the attacker's blade causing the blades to slow contact with each other with each wave. It's a very cool weapon.

_**Thanks AmaZen and FDM for being my betas. Thanks Amazen for editing this chapter solo.**_

**####**

_**...If you touch me, well I just think I'll scream**__**  
**__**Cuz it's been so long, since someone challenged me.**__**  
**__**And made me think... about the way things are...**__**  
**__**Made me think...about the way they could be.**__**  
**_

_**By My Morning Jacket**_

_**#####**_

After Pam's scouts had rejoined them, Eric led his battalion through the forests and surrounded Maude's estate on the shore of a remote northern Minnesota lake. They took their assigned positions and waited to unleash the final phase of Operation Avalanche and eradicate the renegade queen and her remaining troops. Assisted by troops from allied kingdoms, alarmed by Maude's ambitions, they had stormed Maude's properties, frozen her assets, eradicated their enemies and secured Minnesota's borders. Eric knew that he must find and kill Maude quickly. Kings and queens from neighboring states circled like jackals, waiting to see whether he was strong enough to claim Maude's kingdom. He was. Her properties in Minneapolis/St Paul, her cars and private jet were now owned by Northman Enterprises.

And now he had tracked her to her final retreat.

The last battalion of loyal retainers had retreated with their queen to this remote mansion hidden behind a screen of trees.

Besides magickal wards, Maude's remaining forces were equipped with a variety of advanced weapons including the latest generation of M14s, M16s, body armor, uniforms and helmets. Of course Eric's forces were equally well armed. The surrounding kingdoms were only too happy to supplied the latest military weapons and battle gear in order to end Maude's reign and restore balance and prosperity to the region.

Eric eyed the crest of the hill. It would be a nasty fight. A child of the Nordic line, chosen and trained by Valur Sigurdsson, Maude knew that there was no escape for her or hers. This was her last stand.

Her motto was "battle and glory." If she survived this assault, she would fight him to the death and kill as many of her enemy as she could. It is what he would do in the same situation.

She understood that all control had slipped from her hands—then from her commanders, battalion leaders, and squad leaders; she also knew that most of her Were and human minions had obeyed a visceral impulse to escape destruction.

Pam slipped next to him.

"The woods are secured." She grinned broadly, showing fang. "Soon there will be no living enemies in the whole of Minnesota."

"Kirsten?"

"Finishing her rounds. You should be proud. She's smart, stealthy and lethal. Took out all of the guards in her sector, before heading back."

Eric gave her a grudging nod. "Kirsten's well trained, but stubborn and overly confident. That's why I kept her back."

Pam's brow creased with worry. "I told her to break silence if she thought that she was in danger. '

Eric's mouth twisted wryly.

**"**Kirsten is very young—very powerful. And difficult! She is queen in all but name and won't let Bjorn cross her if she thinks she's right." He waved his arm toward the mansion. "It was all that I could do to keep her away from this. But Toller and I have taken more precautions than she realizes. She is guarded in ways she cannot detect. I'll meet her soon. She can help oversee the clean up."

The woods and lake were unnaturally quiet. Energy, like waves of heat, pulsed against him. Of course, huge energy had been raised to construct the wards and more would be unleashed when they attacked. Magickal energy always existed everywhere to a greater or lesser extent. Animals were as used to its currents as they were to wind and rain.

It was the deep unnatural silence of the wilderness that troubled him—no mosquitoes buzzed, no leaf rustled. The source of the disquiet lay somewhere ahead within the mansion.

It was well that they had chosen moon dark. Eric gripped his spear, stood, and lifted it into the air, his silhouette black against the canopy and hazy sky.

He addressed the troops.

"Take their lives and we take Maude's kingdom. Live and you will receive triple the rewards that I promised you. May the gods bear witness. Odin! Sigfadir! Hear me. Give us victory against our enemies! This battlefield and all that is upon it, I claim for Odin!"

He cast his spear. It arched high over the enemy, then hurtled down piercing the earth beside Maude's front entrance.

Then the hosts rose into the air and barreled forward hurling grenades, torching the out buildings with flame throwers.

Maude's retinue fired upon them immediately.

Thick oily smoke rose from the outbuildings as machine gun bursts and battle screams pierced the silence.

Flame throwers roared. Enemy vampires swooped down upon them like paranormal kamikaze, killing as many of Eric troops as they could before they burst into flames or were strafed into flaking ash.

Within half an hour Eric and his troops had gained the hill.

###

Beyond a fringe of dark broken trees that he and his troops had won and secured just moments before, Eric surveyed Maude's mansion.

Nestled behind pines and oak trees and sited on a sloped crest with a spectacular view of the pristine lake, her magnificent estate had offered privacy and security.

Now the air was rancid with the stench of death.

Ashes fluttered like grey leaves and smoke drifted like phantoms.

The decorative gate was rubble and twisted iron, the winding road and tennis courts were lacerated by trenches, and IEDs wired to remote triggers that could be set off by the slightest touch. The outbuildings, guest cottages and viewing gazebo were smoking ruins.

Pagan to the core, Maude had made sure that the house was sited upon the cardinal compass points. But her wards and her warriors were destroyed.

The gods would not protect her from Eric's wrath.

Surrounded by Pam and his troops, he ascended the elliptical stone stairway, where the remains of Maude's elite retinue lay disintegrating on the cream-colored stone. This beautiful mansion was a symbol of Maude's tastes and stature. He would destroy it utterly. Then the wilderness and its spirits would reclaim the grounds and hold him in good favor.

Using shields and body armor for cover, Eric and his forces slowly crossed the Baroque covered porch and forced their way through the main entrance door into the foyer. They shot all of the enemies guarding the front entrance.

Like pawns in an endgame, the desperate defenders flew at them from the twin curving stairways. Pam's flamethrower roared and they went up like shrieking torches while Eric's squads fanned out over the floors.

Someone yelled, "We've lit the place up. It's all clear down here—no supes or human registers are left on this floor or belowground."

Pam caught Eric's eye. "Maude's up there somewhere. No one escaped and she isn't among the dead. I'll take point. "

Eric nodded. "You have the keenest eyes. But I will fight Maude alone. She is Sigurdsson's child and will demand her right to single combat. "

"Master! Remember her gift- the demon she is said to control—and her sword. She will fight with the flamberge."

"It is necessary. She is the last of Sigurdsson's spawn. I will kill her and claim the kingship. My luck is strong."

The floor was utterly dark. Powerful wards deepened the murk, dulling the vampires' keen senses.

Each step was an effort.

Eric felt as though he was walking though muck as they dropped into a crouch and snuck through high-ceilinged, debris-strewn rooms.

Pam hissed and lunged at a vamp who stuck her head above a half wall.

There was a tiny, almost comical, twang like a child's bow string snapping. Ingrid, Pam's best scout, look down with amazement at the narrow wooden shaft protruding from her chest, then toppled to the floor.

Pam cried out. Plaster dust exploded as she fragged the thin divider, strafing her enemy across the back and hamstrings cutting her nearly in two.

Flanked by full length Corinthian pillars, Maude's defender lay flaking in a widening puddle of dark blood on an oriental carpet at the entrance to a vast formal ballroom.

The room beyond him displayed a barbaric beauty. Marble floor mirrored the mounted heads of tigers, boars, wolves, and lions. Gilded candelabra reflected a massive collection of weaponry.

An exquisite mosaic of handmade tiles depicted Maude, eviscerating and decapitating an enemy while groveling retainers knelt reverently in the background.

A tall regal woman gripped a lethal rippling blade of polished steel as she sat waiting upon her throne of rose marble. Eric's skin prickled; the air crackled with the sharp register of something dark, ancient and evil. It wasn't coming from Maude.

Eric inclined his head in a mock salute. "Hail Maude Valursdottir! I have come to claim your head and your crown. "

Her emerald eyes glittered with hatred. She cried out one harsh syllable and the energy in the room thickened. Dark magick hissed and crackled. Her hair fanned out and undulated as she drew back her blade and rose slowly above Eric. She pointed the lethal sword at Eric heart.

"So. I am all that is left now." She smiled evilly. "This is Flame-Tongue, blessed by Loki, lord of all consuming fire. Flame Tongue will rip you to your marrow, and you will join the glorious war bands that died in my defense."

Eric gripped his spatha and rose into the charged air, fighting the powerful magick pushing against him.

"The Jottun is bound and broken. Í hefnd er gleði! I grind my enemies to dust and avenge my own! There is no turning back."

Her fangs descended as she shot towards him. The air whooshed as her blade struck.

Sparks flew as Eric parried her blow then grunted as she kicked him in the stomach and flipped over his head nicking his cheek as he whirled aside. He whirled toward her, his mighty arm drawn back for a killing stroke.

The marble walls echoed and the air throbbed with the clash of weapons and ancient Northern battle cries.

Flame Tongue rang out as it struck Eric's spatha and slowed his stroke. They joined in a deadly circular dance as they thrust, slashed, cut, and parried. But Eric was the more powerful fighter. Blow by blow he forced her back towards the wall.

Again and again their blades clashed until Eric twisted her sword arm and sliced. Flame Tongue flew from Maude's hand and clattered to the ground. She snatched a long curved spear from the wall , cried out, "Rasha! Demon lover, Surtr's flame! Aid me!" and slashed ar at Eric.

Waves of heat encompassed him as a powerful tide of dark magick hurled him across the ballroom.

Maude screamed in triumph as his head crunched against the marble wall, just missing the spike in the center of a small medieval shield. Maude screamed again and dove- thrusting at his heart.

He dodged her thrust, lunged, and slammed the spiked shield deep into Maude's chest.

Her back arched like a lover's. Then she crumpled onto the cold marble. The dark magick scattered and dissipated.

As Eric raised his blade for the killing stroke, she rasped, "The crown is yours. The price is high. A life you prize for my life. "

Eric grabbed her hair and placed the blade against Maude's throat.

"Speak!"

Maude glared at him with unvarnished hatred.

"Only because your pain gives me pleasure. With my final death the spell that bound Surtr's child to me will break. It will seek the talisman that opens the portal to its home in the realm of fire."

Pam cried out. "Kirsten!"

"Go to her!"

Maude smiled and stared far beyond the marble walls. "Your English slut and her squad will find your daughter's corpse. My security cameras still work. I saw your dirty work... watched my Were guard steal the talisman that holds the demon Rasha to this world. I watched your daughter kill him and take the stone. Rasha did not kill you, but he did not fail me entirely. He is drawn to the stone. He will kill your daughter to get it back. And so I rejoice in your fear and sorrow. Your 'victory' will give you no joy. "

He pulled her head back further until his eyes held hers and pressed the blade against Maude's throat.

"This gives me much joy."

A fountain of dark blood erupted as he severed her head. He flung it at the base of the throne then hurtled out of the ballroom, toward Kirsten.

**#####**

**Hope you enjoyed.**

Working on the next chapter right now.

**Bright Blessings **


	26. Wondrous Strange

Chapter 27

A/N: I love dragons! What fun to write such powerful antagonists-symbols of ancient wisdom, cunning, the power to destroy and/or cleanse and fierce. covetous passion.

In a lot of ways they resemble vamps. And, let's face it, dragons and vamps both belong to the dark side. It's really a matter of degree, isn't it?

_**Norse Note: **_

_**The belief in the reality of **__**lindorms**__**, giant dragonlike creatures, persisted well into the 19**__**th**__** century in some parts of Sweden**__**. **__**Lindorm's name comes from the Viking word "linnormr", which means "constrictor snake." Dragons in Viking tales usually didn't have wings and looked like giant snakes with arms. **__**The shed skin of a lindorm was believed to greatly increase a person's knowledge about nature and medicine. I've added wings because, hey, I like 'em.**_

_**Thank you FarDareisMai2 and AmaZen my wonderful betas.**_

###########

_**By the pricking of my thumbs**__**, **__**  
**__**Something wicked this way comes**_

Shakespeare's Macbeth Act 4, scene 1

########

Bjorn and Kirsten stood back to back within the warded circle. Their skin crawled with the shifting energies of the supernatural storm about to erupt. They sensed it in the unnatural stillness of animals and elementals, saw it in a thickening darkness, and smelt it on the damp oppressive air that stank of rotten eggs.

Kirsten kept her breathing shallow. "It's coming fast. It wants the stone."

Bjorn gagged and spat. "Pah! It stinks of Muspelheim. How did Maude stand it?"

Kirsten gripped her sword and ax. The downy hair on her neck and arms stood on end.

"All creatures from the Fire Jötun's realm are shapeshifters like their master Loki. The creature could have worked for Maude in any form she required. The binding spell broke when she died. It'll appear in the form that suits its own purposes."

"You say that we are coated with this 'mudshadow's energy. You are a gythja. Banish this thing." He looked down at the stone with fear and loathing. "The runes glow like red hot coals!"

Kirsten glacial blue eyes swept the shadowy woods. "We're coated with its energy and I don't have the time for a ceremony of extraction. This talisman's a sensor charged with the demon's energy. It lit up because the creature's close."

Bjorn's brows furrowed. "Why can't we just throw the damned thing out?"

Kirsten sighed. Bjorn was very strong and brave but he was a bit of a bonehead.

"Like I said, we're coated with its energy inside this protected circle. If we throw the talisman out, we break the ward. We step outside the circle with or without the stone, and we can't get back in because the magick I worked won't recognize our tainted registers. If we run, Maude's ex-whatever it is will find us because we're covered with its energy. So our asses are grass if we take one step outside of the circle I cast."

Bjorn strode to the circle's edge. "You are my queen. My life is forfeit. I will meet it in battle."

Kirsten grasped his forearm. "Don't be a fool! You can't sneak up on this thing; it's a fire demon from Muspelheim. It's kin to Surtr!

Bjorn sniffed the air. "The winds of wyrd blow against us. Call upon the great ones."

He was right. Things weren't looking good. And she _was_ an ordained gythja. She could, if she chose, call upon Freya or Hella—binding her wyrd even more powerfully to them. But that was not the choice she preferred. Despite everything, she felt strangely exhilarated. Tonight, she would trust her instincts, and her luck.

"Stand your ground. I'll think of something. "

The conversation dropped off like a stone falling into a chasm as a hot breath of wind licked them. The trees moaned and bent. The acrid stink of sulfur engulfed them. Opaque smoke billowed, blotting out the stars and unveiling a nightmare. Kirsten's belly tightened and her scalp crawled with sweat.

Two massive feet with long ebony claws emerged from the smoke. Lit with an inner fire, razor sharp red scales shone like rubies.

Bjorn's eyes brimmed with horror. His hands clawed at the air in warding off gestures. "As in the sagas…Lindorm…"

Massive leathery wings whooshed as they beat the smoke into wisps.

Kirsten coughed and crouched beneath the smoke. She took one sidelong glance then looked down. The lindorm's will beat down upon her. She fought an unquenchable urge to look up and meet its eyes.

_Fuck me...no way…not__ here in Midgard._

The lindorm reared up until its scaly red body resembled a towering tree. Two long ebony horns crowned a head that would have frightened T Rex. Tiny flames danced in its nostrils. Unblinking amber eyes regarded them with merciless intelligence, and the poisonous barbed tip of its sinuous tail lashed back and forth like an angry cat's.

It's rumbling voice was tinged with insolent amusement. "Greetings wormlings. I think you know why I am here."

Dark magic rolled over them. The pressure of the lindorm's intent pressed against the wards.

Bjorn's eyes locked upon those amber orbs.

Kirsten clenched her teeth to control their chattering and kept her voice level.

"Impressive entrance Lindorm. You are quite the showman."

The lindorm flicked its long, forked red tongue, cleared its throat, and rumbled, "I pride myself on entrances and exits. Too late for your brave defender, young gythja. Too late for my beautiful mistress too. Her home was a village by the sea that smelled of tar and wood smoke. Each house was carved with dragonheads and runes. They worshiped us. When she called, I bound myself to her willingly."

His speech thickened slightly tinged with bitterness and sorrow. "Thanks to your sire, my queen is dead. Nothing holds me to this cold realm now."

Kirsten forced more of her energy into the wards. "You can't touch us."

Gouts of flame shot from the lindorm's nostrils and danced almost playfully over the dome of the ward.

"And you cannot escape. Dawn will come. Your defender will turn to ash if he does not burrow into the ground like a worm. You will grow hungry, and thirsty. You will squat in your own filth and cease to care whether you live or die. And I will still be here."

Crack! Like a massive bull whip, the lindorm's tail pounded the shimmering ward again and again until the ground shook. Bjorn shook himself free of the enchantment and crouched over Kirsten shielding her.

"The choice is simple. Give me the rune stone and I will spare you or, eventually, you will tire and have no energy to feed the ward. Then, I will crack your ward like an eggshell and kill you. I don't think I'll burn you though. As lusty as Maude was, she never fully satisfied my hunger; cattle are bland, and vampire flesh is putrid. Your mixed blood, on the other hand, could be delicious." His voice now sounded fond and sly. "Maidens just taste better. Maybe I'll fuck you first. "

Kirsten pushed Bjorn down, covered his eyes with her hands, and whispered a banishing spell. He groaned, and clapped his hands to his head.

"Don't look into its eyes again!" Kirsten hissed.

Then she stood, tall and unflinching, and bared her fangs.

"The wards will hold. You're the one that's fucked. How long do you think you'll last in Midgard without Maude to protect you? The other supes will hunt you down. The gods and goddesses will destroy you."

Another rumble of amusement.

"If that is my wyrd, I accept it. But I will take you with me into death. I know you Kirsten Ericsdottir. Your mesmerized friend told me all that he knows. We are both prisoners of our wyrd. We are what we are and will follow our instincts. The Aesir and your kin have bound you like a thrall. This little bubble you crouch in is a metaphor for your entire life. I am your wyrd, poor dear and you are mine. We cannot escape each other. I cannot leave—until you give up the stone and you cannot go until you break the ward. And so we must negotiate. I offer you this bargain upon which I will swear a binding oath. Give me the stone and I will leave for Muspelheim immediately and let you live."

Kirsten fought to keep her voice steady. "You're a liar, Lindorm! You'd roast us the instant the ward broke."

"Untrue, child! Loki has lost and, like other deserters, I long only for my lair and my hoard. Now if Loki had won, humans would once again learn the truth of their ancestors' 'fairy tales.' Don't look so disapproving. You dear papa and at least half of your relations would agree wholeheartedly with me. "

The force of its gaze pounded down upon her like desert sunlight. Its eyes narrowed, but its voice was soft, almost pleading. "Hurl the talisman to me."

Within the ward a fragrant and powerful register rose from the earth and touched her mind. Del!

Kirsten pushed back joy and relief and let her voice ring with anger.

"Lindorms are evil, covetous creatures drawn to death and destruction. My father kills from necessity.'

At this the Lindorm threw back its head and roared with laughter until fire balls flew from its nostrils.

Its eyes gleamed balefully. "I wonder whether his human prey would agree. You consider me evil? Stupid girl!How many genuine princes of darkness have the genocidal, pestilential humans who over populate this planet produced! Humans have proved themselves quite dangerous to their own planet and the worlds closest to them."

_C'mon Kirs, you're the drama queen of the family…ham it up…__Keep him talking…Lindorms love to chew the fat…_

Kirsten scowled

_Sorry. __Bad joke… _

Kirsten steeled her face to a truculent scowl. "You've got a point there Lindorm, I have to admit."

The Lindorm tested the ward with its jaws.

Venom sizzled and smoked as it snapped, "Of course I do! Why wouldn't I side with the Jötun? It's a terrible shame, if you ask me, that he was rebound. "

_Play with him…he's more desperate than you think…pick up the talisman… __play with it—keep his attention on you …I can't set foot on Midgard yet, but I can help. Ham it up!_

Kirsten sighed and drooped like an unwatered flower. "But you haven't sworn an oath that will bind you…"

"I will swear The Odin Oath—an unbreakable pact."

_Play for time! Tell him to swear by __Surtr's heart. That ought to hold him._

Kirsten crossed her arms and shook her head. "That oath doesn't bind you! Swear by Surtr's heart!"

The lindorm lashed its tail.

"You know too much for your own good, young one. It seems that we have reached a stalemate. Very well," he grumbled, then hesitated.

Kirsten bent and picked up the glowing stone. "The whole oath Lindorm."

_When I give the word throw the __talisman as high and as hard as you can._

"I, Raska—Lindorm of Muspelheim—do swear upon the heart of Surtr, ruler of the Fiery Realm, to harm no hair upon the head,"

Kirsten shook her head emphatically. "Not enough!"

_Just a little long__er Kirs; everything's almost in place._

"And to do no _bodily_…"

"Or _spiritual_," Kirsten added helpfully.

The lindorm snorted, "You are shameless…or spiritual… harm to Kirsten Ericsdottir …"

Kirsten cleared her throat and pointed at Bjorn.

"…or her thrall…from this day forth." He added gloomily.

The lindorm stared expectantly at the stone. "I have fulfilled my part of this bargain. Give me the stone!"

Kirsten tried on a smile that came out as a grimace. "Okay."

_Perfect! _

Kirsten cocked back her arm.

Bjorn cried out, "My lady, no! Do not trust this evil creature!"

_Three, two, one-Now!_

Kirsten yelled "Catch!" and pitched the glowing talisman high into the night.

The lindorm raised its head, opened its jaws, and lunged for the talisman. Kirsten watched with horror as the lindorm craned its long neck; its -amber eyes flamed scarlet as it angled its head to claim its prize.

_It's over Del. We're toast._

The air flashed with blinding light. Thunder boomed.

_No we're not__! Watch. _

The lindorm lashed it tail and roared as bolts of pulsing energy shot down its throat and fanned out across its body, encasing it in a constricting web. It rolled to its side, writhing and lashing like an eel caught in a net.

Just outside the net, two mighty ash spears tipped with iron thrust deep into the Lindorm's chest. Kirsten screamed as flame billowed and two shields appeared, blackened and smoking. But where were the phantom warriors that held them?

Kirsten and Bjorn cried out with joy as the night filled with the dragon's agonized roars—and familiar battle cries. Now Kirsten felt their registers and screamed. "Toller! Faðir!"

Dark blood spurted all around the quivering spearheads. The lindorm thrashed, spewing smoke and venom as the shadowy warriors thrust their shafts deeper.

Kirsten sprang toward them. Bjorn clapped a hand on her shoulder and pulled her back.

He grunted but tightened his hold as Kirsten elbowed him in the ribs.

"Let me go to them!"

"No. You will stay here. You are not to leave the circle."

Kirsten's eyes flashed dangerously. "On whose orders?"

"Upon my king's orders. I guard you with my life. The circle is safest. You will stay here."

They stood transfixed as one shadowy male form in battle armor strode forward and drove his sword deep into the lindorm's belly while another shadow warrior struck into the lindorm's body with a battle-sharp stabbing knife. The fire and bellowing slackened as the two drove the life from the lindorm's body and made an end to him.

The web that bound the lindorm opened in spiral threads and scattered on the wind like milkweed seeds. The dying lindorm shed its skin and shrank, coalescing into the form of a huge, heavily muscled man with glowing red eyes.

The shielding wards lifted and her father, now undisputedly King Eric of Minnesota and her husband King Toller of Sweden stood with swords poised above their enemy.

Toller nudged it with his boot. "You are no more, Lindorm."

It looked at them defiantly and rasped. "I go to my lover, Maude of the Flame Blade. She was fierce and magnificent. She worshipped me, commanded me, and I loved her well."

A red fog formed around the body, bubbling, hissing and steaming. When it lifted, the lindorm's skin remained but the demon's body had vanished. Although Toller's hand was badly blistered and Eric's face was covered with soot and a healing gash, they leaned on their swords and grinned.

Bjorn howled and loosened his grip as Kirsten gripped his balls, squeezed hard, then darted out of the circled, broke the ward, and raced to her father and Toller. Bjorn staggered after her. She knelt before her father and touched her hand to her forehead.

"The queen is dead. Long live the king!"

Eric raised her up and she hugged him fiercely.

"My heart sings with delight min dotter. The war is over. We have won. Soon we will celebrate and hold a victory blot."

His expression softened. "Now greet your husband as a wife ought."

A powerful wave of relief and gratitude filled her as Toller swung her into the circle of his arms. His kiss was surprisingly gentle.

She smiled through her tears. "Bastard! I thought I felt your register for an instant earlier on…You were here all the time!"

The grin on his handsome sooty face was irresistible. "You are my wife. I cannot allow you to go into such danger unguarded. Your mother's friend, Amelia, arranged the wards. But it was Adele who contacted us and provided the spears and the net."

His expression stilled and grew serious. "She has grown. Never have I witnessed such power. It was she that cast the net that bound the lindorm and released the magick that gave it strength and form."

He nodded at the glittering dragon skin. "The skin is yours now Svass."

Kirsten shook her head. "A lindorm's skin is too magickal for Midgard in this age. Everyone would want it. It would make marvelous body armor—it would deflect just about any weapon."

She squatted and touched the glittering skin with her fingertip. "It holds too much power. There would be trouble. Maybe another terrible war. They say it will give its wearer hidden knowledge of the nine worlds and the power to heal."

For an instant wistfulness stole into her expression. "We could use such a gift. It would give us great power. But it belongs with the Aesir and Asynjer."

She looked up at her father who stooped and kissed her forehead. "Then the lindorm's skin should be offered to the Lady Freya, our patroness, there."

She closed her eyes and searched for her sister's register. "Del's gone."

"She couldn't stay älskling. She says she cannot return to Midgård until she concludes her business in Alfheim." He smiled. "Then, she can come home at last."

Bjorn nodded at the smoking spears. "How is it that they pierced the lindorm's hide my lord Eric ?

Eric looked at his spear fondly. "The spears are gifts of the Alfather. This one is called Brusnautr, The Bridge's Gift. Your king's is called, Báleygr, Flaming Eye. The sky-iron tips were forged in the fires of Muspelheim and tipped with the blood of a black dragon."

Bjorn touched his brow is deference to the gods. "Hail the gods! It is a mighty gift. "

It was a bride price given Eric by the Allfather for his daughter's hand. Great gifts and great honors. Yet, it was only a small part of the price his darling Adele had paid for her family and the worlds. His acceptance of this gift of necessity, bound Adele even more tightly to Odin. And yet it was her choice. Her gift to give. She had given it freely and with infinite love.

For the first time in months, Eric had an indefinable feeling of rightness.

The Northmans and their kin had triumphed. Together they had ended a war, claimed a kingdom, and founded a dynasty.

For a moment he relived his frantic race to save Kirsten, his desperation before he'd felt Adele's gentle presence—a sweetness beyond words.

_Pappa. Kirs is in terrible danger. Maude controlled a Lindorm. I have a plan…_

For a moment time and space swirled and he saw her dear face shining with love and resolve.

_Come back to us dearest…I miss you_

_Soon…I promise…_

Kirsten's voice pulled him back from his reverie. She leaned against Toller, her beautiful face smudged and glorious. As he gathered up the lindorm's skin, he closed his eyes for a moment and took comfort in the sound of his daughter's voice.

"When I was little," she was saying, "my parents would always tell me to hold tight… to their hand, a kite, the horse's reigns. One day, while faðir was at rest, we made kites and went kite flying on the back pastures. It was wonderful and frightening to be bound to something so high and far away. All I had to do was pull the string a little and it would dip and turn. But sometimes it would tug; then I was afraid that I'd be carried away."

Toller's mellow baritone asked, "And what did you learn from your kite flying min Svass?

She laughed a little. She felt powerful and alive. The war was over. Del would come back. Some unbearable burden had been removed from deep inside her.

"I figured out that the wind is a bit like wyrd and the kite's like that bit of ourselves that's sailing through time and space. No matter where the wind takes you—it's still about balance and choices. I hold the strings. Whether I soar or crash is up to me."

She thought of the lindorm and his love for Maude. Yes. She understood its choice to stay and bind itself for the sake of love. She turned her head and gazed lovingly at her father, then laced her fingers through Toller's good hand and met his eyes.

"I didn't end up where I wanted to go, but I ended up where I needed to be. And I made the right choice in the end."

_**NOW WE CAN KILL BILL **_

**REVIEWS**** TASTE DELICIOUS**

**PLEASE FEED THE WRITER**

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	27. Kill Bill Part 1

Dark Storm Rising

Bill Meets His Maker Part I

_I did my best, it wasn't much__**  
**__I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch__**  
**__I've told the truth, I didn't come to fool you__**  
**__And even though__**  
**__It all went wrong__**  
**__I'll stand before the Lord of Song__**  
**__With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah_

_Leonard Cohen_

_**Thanks AmaZen & FDM for your unflagging support!**_

_**888888888888**_

Sookie's eyes fluttered open. Moonlight spilled across rumpled silk sheets. The still air held the heavy perfume of night blooming jasmine and the sweet musky scent of lovemaking. Eric spooned against her, his right hand cupping the heavy swell of her breast, the other interlaced with hers beneath the pillow.

She couldn't see his face but she felt his joy and contentment; that had to do with her. Damn! She'd missed him and he'd missed her. That last time—they'd reached the Godhead—soared somewhere together they'd never been before.

She was still throbbing, tingling, slicked with sweat. She'd wanted to keep all of her thoughts focused on this moment, on the two of them joined together, but now the outside world had intruded in the form of Bill. She had decided what she must do and Eric wasn't going to like it in the least.

She also felt the volcanic anger that brewed not too deeply beneath his tranquil surface; that too had to do with Bill. Eric had confined Bill in one of Maude's "holding cells" and Sookie couldn't feel him at all.

Whatever bond she'd had with Bill had been broken years ago, or maybe it had withered as her bond with Eric had strengthened so much and bound them to each other so strongly that no other bond could compete.

Eric would relish that thought. What he'd relish even more was the very particular traitor's death he'd arranged for Bill directly after his coronation and the "Swearing of Oaths."

Felipe de Castro would be there for many reasons, the official ones having to do with being their girls' guardians and Bill's king. There had been some question about "jurisdiction," with King Stanislaus insisting that he also had the right to exact full penalty for the pain and suffering of Adele, his queen.

Adele would also be there tonight to witness her father and mother's coronation. Both-troth plighted couples would stand together. The Northmans would be united as one family, and Bill would see that. Bbefore he died he would see all that he would have taken from her.

She still couldn't get her head around his betrayal. His interest had been in her and her alone. Bill didn't give a rat's ass about her children. Their deaths would have been "just business," a necessary step in the process of obtaining her.

But Eric was another matter. Bill wanted to destroy Eric with a vengeance, taking him out of the picture permanently.

Yet, that was impossible and partially because of Bill's betrayal. Her lips curved. Wyrd works in mysterious ways.

If it hadn't been for Bill's betrayal and the forced shedding of their old bond, their new, even stronger bond might never have blossomed. This was the message her "higher self," had tried to give her in the lucid dream from which she had just awakened.

Meeting her astral double for the first time hadn't been a fun experience. She'd just dozed off after they'd made love for the third time, her was full of Eric. Touching him. Tasting him. Feeling the comforting solidity of him around and inside her.

Then, to be whisked away from all of that deliciousness! Well, someone was going to get more than a piece of her mind! She'd felt justifiable rage as she stared down at her sleeping body comfortably nestled in Eric's arms.

From there, she'd sailed on a warm breeze toward a shimmering rosy presence that engulfed her like a blanket. She shrugged off the "blanket" and gave it a shake. Just to show that she meant business, and she channeled a little of her own mojo and gave it a zap. The blanket tinkled like a wind chime and shimmered prettily as it shivered and rippled. She tightened her grip and snapped it taut.

"That crap doesn't work with me! Shimmering blankets don't even hit zero on my shock and awe meter."

She glanced down at Eric whose lips curved in a smile and gave another tug for good measure. "I was quite happy where I was. Who the hell are you and what do you want?"

Sookie continued to hold tightly to the shimmering form as it coalesced into her mirror image.

Sookie channeled again and gave a little yelp when her energy rippled through the shimmering form and ran right back into her. That was a first. How the hell? Identical blue eyes sparkled with joy and amusement.

An identical luminous Sookie drawled, "Greetings physical me!"

"I'm your astral double, your higher self, your link between the physical world and the spiritual world."

Sookie loosened her grip. Slightly. "So, you're like, the voice of my conscience?"

"That's part of what I do, but I'm also here to help you move forward, and you have. _We_ have. Congratulations! It's taken many lifetimes for you to grow enough for us to meet."

Astral Sookie winked. "All of that wild sex also raised a dormant force through your energy channels. Astral Eric's very pleased. He got a real rush from those 'sparks.' What you opened up put you on a whole new level of awareness."

"What? You're connected to "Astral Eric?"

"Your souls are linked, and so we too are joined—life to life now. You have both given your hearts and souls to this love you share. But it isn't for the sake of this love that you called me."

"Why are you here then?"

"To help you. You twist and turn. Bill Compton has tied himself to you again. You feel guilt that you will have a hand in destroying Bill. This guilt will bind you to him even in death. I am in part, the voice of your conscience. Bill has had a long life. He is filled with a darkness that cannot be repaired on this plane."

Astral Sookie regarded her physical double with sympathy. "It's his time to depart this existence and await rebirth. It is _your_ wyrd to release him. In childhood you lost your innocence. Yet you learned to trust again, only to have it destroyed once more. Bill has betrayed you again, more profoundly than before and you feel broken again. Your very ability to read minds has made you far more compassionate than most people. You have a near-fatal capacity to feel what it's like to live inside another person's skin."

Sookie stiffened_._ "No! I'm furious…Bill betrayed me and he aimed to kill my family. He gave his allegiance to the bastards that killed Jason and raped Del. Do you think I could ever forget or forgive that?"

Astral Sookie touched her lightly, her eyes gentle. " Look deeper. You want to forgive him. That is your nature, and yet you cannot. Someday, a lifetime from now, forgiveness will come, but not yet. Not for many years. But you must release the feelings still trapped inside, accept any lessons learned, and seek peace of mind. Only then will it be possible to let go of the remnants of the shame, fear and anger created by betrayal. You must forgive yourself, for you do what you must for yourself, your family, and your kingdom, and for all those in the nine worlds who died fighting the evil that would have been unleashed. Do what justice and your brokenness demands to find healing and wholeness again."

Her higher self began to fade, "He's waking. I have to go back to the astral plane and you to the physical. But now you know how to find me. I'll be here when you need me."

Eric's mouth grazed her earlobe. Thank gods she was back in bed with her very solid and physical husband! She slung her leg over his and pressed her bottom against him. He hardened instantly, pressed back and slid his hand between her thighs. She took a deep breath. Eric nuzzled her neck and shifted to position himself strategically. She shivered, remembering the previous night, and slowly rotated her hips. Since she had joined him in Minnesota a week ago, they could hardly keep their hands from each other.

"Good evening my lover." He nudged her thigh gently. "There is just enough time…"

"But honey, we've barely got time to shower." She moaned as he touched her and placed her hand on top of his.

Eric grinned wickedly and stroked her slick wet warmth.

Her renegade hips bucked echoing the rhythm of his fingers. "Let them wait. It's good to be king my lover."

"But they'll…"

He silenced her with a breathtaking kiss.

"Let them know. I like it when our scents are mingled." His eyes blazed into hers as she gave up and opened to him —_especially him. Especially tonight._ _You are mine and mine alone!_

His arms tightened as he glided upward, deep inside her.

Afterwards, she dozed again but her sleep was troubled. She woke with a start, her heart pounding. Eric's eyes blazed into hers. Anger and pain rolled across their bond.

"I'll kill the bastard now!"

There was no denying her upset. Their bond, especially the strengthened bond, never lied. "How did you…"

"You cried out his name. He torments you. I feel your anger, resentment, helplessness and fear. You blame yourself for Compton's madness."

He stood and reached for his longknife.

"William Compton will trouble you no more."

Sookie place a restraining hand on Eric massive forearm.

"No. Wait. Justice will be served. And it has to be served before witnesses,

"So that everyone knows that we're strong and will think twice before they go against us? They know this my lover! Bill is a traitor—"

"And you've planned a traitor's death for him."

Eric's lips tightened "It was more than a dream. Your register surged. What have you seen? "

"I saw Bill standing on a shelf of jagged dark rock on the edge of an abyss. I floated above him. He looked into my eyes and I could see straight into his soul. It was swarming with dark entities…spiritual parasites. They've latched onto his soul , feeding off of him. There was so much darkness! Tendrils snaked through the core of his being like a fungus or a cancer—killing whatever was left his inner light. They infect a darkened soul like parasites infect a rotting wound. It's gone too far to save him in this life. Eric. Bill Compton will die tonight, by my hand as much as by yours. Before he does I need to speak to him."

Eric hands tightened ever so slightly on her shoulders. "Fuck his spiritual 'release.' He deserves agonizing death and whatever punishment awaits him. I forbid you to speak to him!"

"Hear me out! Bill had a choice and he chose darkness. _These spiritual parasites spread like material parasites. Though he'll never see it this way, I've looked into his soul. I know that_Bill's particular infection is spread through abuse. I fought that darkness off long ago. He's hurt me before over much less important things.

Eric's voice was ice. "Such 'minor things' as your life…"

Sookie's eyes flashed. "…_and_ the hurt, resentment and fear lingered for years. I won't let that darkness infect me again! I don't want what's passed to stain what _we_have. If I don't speak to him and get some closure before he dies, it will. I don't want to push all that I'm feeling into some dark corner where it lurks like a monster in the closet ready to leap when I'm least prepared. From the time I was a little girl and my uncle violated me, I've had people's betrayals sneak up and surprise me years later, when I thought I'd finished with them. Eric, a lot of our fights early on weren't really about us. I raged and punished myself—kept the resentment and guilt fresh, and then I pushed the pain deep and acted as if all were forgiven."

"I'm hurting now Eric! I hold myself responsible—for not discerning what Bill is and what he is capable of doing. I was deliberately blind and now Jason's dead. Friends and loyal supporters are dead and... I could have lost you, the girls," she placed her hands over her stomach, "and the baby."

" I need to look Bill in the eyes. I need to speak to him. Get some answers and tell him how I feel, or I will never be able to let go and truly come to peace. You know, I held a shield over my heart for a long time. The first time I put it down—for Bill—he crushed it. Now, the betrayal's different. I don't love him, I love you. But I thought he was my friend—that he loved me and would never betray me again. If I don't speak with him before he dies, I'm afraid that I'll raise that shield again, and maybe not ever be trusting again. Then, he'll have won."

She could feel Eric's rage and frustration building even as he enfolded her in his arms. "I will not have him between us!"

He stroked the curve of her stomach and his voice softened. "But I cannot bear to see you in agony. I would have you speak your thoughts to him and then think of him and speak of him no more. I will accompany you."

"As far as the access door."

Eric stiffened. Anger and raw hurt flowed across the bond. "No. How can I protect you?"

Sookie pressed her hand against his cheek, but there was steel in her voice. "He's shackled. The walls and doors are coated with silver, and there are at least three silver nitrate gas vents in that cell…not to mention the solar field and umpteen guards. I need to do this alone."

"No."

Sookie eyes flashed. "Why?"

A muscle in Eric's cheek ticked. "You are my wife and my queen. Compton is a traitor and an enemy."

Her voice was velvet on steel. "I will speak to Bill Compton—for myself and for my family—before I kill him. I know you'll be close by. I know that you'll hear. That isn't the point. I need to speak to him privately to let him know what I feel and think. I can't do that in public, as the Queen of Minnesota, during a formal ceremony. When you thrust that spear into him, my hand will be on it too!"

"You don't have to do that. It isn't necessary. You need only observe."

"It's necessary—for me, for us…maybe even for him. It will release him…release us…let us all more forward. My talking to Bill privately is necessary too. Do you see that now?"

A muscle clenched along his jaw. "I understand. I don't like it, but I understand. I have a few provisions though. First, you may not be alone with Compton, even if he is restrained and guarded. Also, there is an observation cubicle inside the room. I will be there. If he makes the slightest threat, I'll kill him there and then."

"Agreed."

Eric lifted Sookie. "Now lover, let's take a shower, then do what must be done."

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Surrounded by guards in black Kevlar, Sookie and Eric walked down a dim corridor, passing two checkpoint stations in Maude's "catacombs."

Moisture gleamed dully on the dank, livid walls. A world away above their heads, guests laughed and lounged on balconies, or walked in fragrant gardens where lily ponds reflected moonlight. Sookie folded into herself like a fan, focusing her intent upon what she must do and say.

The energetic imprints of fear and despair seeped from the dank vaulted corridors, and flowed in icy drafts from the barred and locked doors. They combined with the stench of old sweat, blood, and bodily wastes, permeating the senses and darkening the soul. Sookie gagged. Eric's grip tightened.

"Guards, halt!"

She squeezed Eric's hand and nodded at a heavily guarded door at the end of the corridor. "I know he's in there. Let's get this over with."

Anger, frustration, and concern throbbed across the bond.

"You are too sensitive to the darkness here. This is no place for you or the baby."

Her mouth tightened. She strengthened her shields and centered herself.". "We'll keep."

His thought flashed. _Stubborn, impossible woman!_ But his eyes gleamed with admiration.

The gloved guards bowed low and opened a massive silver plated door that looked like the door to a bank vault. She and Eric passed into a stark observation room manned by four guards who bowed. The highest ranked addressed them.

"As you ordered, Sire. The prisoner is restrained behind an unbreakable barrier. He will have no physical contact with the queen. He is targeted from fifteen locations, and the controls will be in your hands as you ordered. Should you require his final death, you can deliver it immediately." The guard motioned to the seat before a viewing window with one way-glass and put his hand upon the handle of the access door.

Eric took Sookie's cold hands as he felt tension rise within her. It wasn't the tension of a doe sensing a hunter, but the focused tension of a lioness ready to spring.

The corner of Eric's mouth twitched upward. "I will be watching. You have twenty minutes. No more. "

Sookie took a deep breath and prepared herself as she would for physical combat. Fighting effectively, even with words, took certain skills. Being in the same room with the man who had decimated her heart and nearly destroyed all that she held dear would be, to put it mildly, a shock.

She would stay focused.

The timing of each verbal strike would be crucial.

She would make it impossible for Bill to block or dodge what she had to say.

She would control her mind and not allow fear, anger and adrenaline to overwhelm her.

She had grown. It had been hard work. To reach this place of balance Sookie had searched the corners that held her darkest fears and secrets until she knew, understood, and released her shadow self from its cowering shame and unspoken rage

_I'm not a victim and I'm more than a survivor. I'll turn the tables with the truth. Then I'll be free._

_You are a true warrior and my queen._

_I'm also a didn't hesitate to do the worst to me. I won't hesitate I fight for my family, I fight like a mama bear!_

_Remember lover, the winner of any fight is the one who hurts his opponent the most. YOU must to be the one who delivers the most damage with your words and your actions._

She nodded. "Open the door."

Bill sat behind a barrier that only a god could shatter. Powerful wards bound him. He was seated upon a metal stool, his hand resting stiffly upon either leg like an Egyptian statue, his white skin magnifying the inky darkness in his eyes.

They took each other in.

He'd been roughed up some, but his hair still tapered neatly to his collar. There was some bruising and puffiness around both eyes, and a split lip was healing. His lips thinned

"His scent is all over you."

Sookie shrugged and sat upon an upholstered chair. "And mine's all over my husband." She had no time for this shit and neither did he. Best to cut to the chase.

"Why Bill? After all of these years, after all that we have been through, I thought that we had gained some peace, some balance, some respect…"

His bitter laugh raked her. "Balance? A woman like you destroys balance! I have loved you to the point of madness. I fell in love with you and it was a very deep hole."

"You're in an abyss alright. I've seen it. But I didn't make it. You did."

Her eyes narrowed. "Vampires are predators. But you're not animals. You have a choice. I have always been your prey. You chose to side with the enemy that raped my daughter, murdered my brother. To get to me you have destroyed my friends, my precious family, and brought a terrible change to the world, without thought or conscience. I would never have let you back into my life! You're a selfish, evil bastard even if you don't see it that way. You wanted my body, my …uniqueness…but you never really wanted me, because you never knew me."

A slow, infuriating smile spread from his mouth to his eyes. "I knew you well. Once. You are in my blood—part of me forever. You talk about your pain? Your love destroyed me!" He stared at her. "There is no pain equal to that which lovers can inflict on one another."

"I'm not your lover." She countered icily. "But I loved you once—innocently, completely. You betrayed me and lacerated my heart. You reopened the breaks I'd tried to seal so carefully. But I'm not stranded and hopeless and alone. Years ago I picked myself up and recovered the oneness I thought that I'd never find, I found constant, total love with Eric. _That _love was the magic glue that let me become whole again. Our love took all the separate pieces of my broken heart and molded them into a greater whole, and it's a wholeness that fills. It's my love for Eric and his for me that fills me - glorious, complete oneness that I could never have with you."

Bill shook his head. "I will not let you go."

Her hurt turned into white-hot anger. "You have to. It took years but I was ready to forgive you. I don't love you, but I thought that I could trust you. I had faith in your basic integrity and you betrayed me again. I figured that you cared enough about me, that you would want to fight for what I held dear. What I have experienced had changed my attitudes, how I cope, how I behave. I will never be yours—only Eric's. I want to make sure that the ones I love will never be in danger again."

His voice was cold and bitter. "Then I have no more desire to live.

"That's just as well Bill, because this life is over for you. I don't want to hold to anger and pain. They've stolen too much from me and kept me from love. But I cannot forgive you. You have lost your ability to feel for others. Without empathy there's no trust—no reason not to act out of self interest to cheat, steal, lie and murder. I don't think that's possible for you now and I will see justice done. This life is over for you. The only 'gift' I will give you is the gift of release from this life by my hand."

His eyes clung to hers. "As a condemned man I would make a final request."

She took a deep. shuddering breath and steadied herself. "Name it. If I can honor it I will."

He studied her face for an extra beat. "Then, promise that you will meet my eyes when you kill me."

Sookie nodded gravely. "I promise."

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_So much work goes into each chapter...lol while my kids run rampant_

_What do you think so far?_

_Drop me a line before you read the next chapter :-)_


	28. Kill Bill II

Dark Storm Rising

Kill Bill Part II

A/N: First thanks so much for sticking with this story. You are wonderful, faithful readers.

**Massive thanks to my wonderful friends and editors, FDM & AmaZen who have always told the truth and never steered me wrong. DSR would be a sad creature without your guidance.**

_**Let freedom ring, let the white dove sing. **_

_**Let the whole world know that today is a day of reckoning. **_

_**Let the weak be strong; let the right be wrong. **__**  
**__**Roll the stone away.**_

_**Let the guilty pay,**_

_**It's Independence Day.**_

"**Independence Day" Martina McBride**

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Followed by Pam, Kirsten, Toller, Adele, Zeline and Stan, who carried the royal regalia, Eric and Sookie processed up the long aisle through the body of the assembly. They passed the great pillars of ash that marked the entryway to the great temple modeled upon its ancient original in Uppsala Sweden, and ascended the steps to a towering live ash, the temple's roof tree, where the High Gythja of the Aesir awaited them.

When they knelt at the faldstools set for them before their thrones, Finna Hrutsdottir began the ceremony. More than two thousand guests, including Felipe DeCastro, and the heads of human and vampire states from around the world, watched as they both took the Coronation Oath and bound themselves to serve their "people" and to maintain the laws of the kingdom of Minnesota.

"I, Eric Northman son of Thorkel Grimhelmson, confirm by oath that I will lead with justice, protecting my kingdom through wit and might, rewarding loyalty and punishing disloyalty. Generous to my friends, pitiless to my enemies. Preserving peace and amity with my allies, and leading in battle, destroying all who threaten my kingdom. I will make known my ancestry to one and all: I came from a mighty family of Öland stock; my father was Thorkel a great Jarl fearless in battle, my grandsire was Grimhelm who vanquished the armies of Gottland. I came from the fight where I destroyed my enemies, and rebound the Jottun. I have avenged my family and ground enemies to bits.

To uphold my troth until the end of the world before my gods and this assembly."

In her royal blue gown, with her golden hair swept up, Sookie was radiant. The High Gythja turned to Sookie.

"Madam, is your Majesty willing to take the Oath?

Sookie's gaze was calm, her voice steady. "I am willing."

"Do you Sookie Stackhouse Northman, solemnly promise and swear to govern the peoples of the Kingdom of Minnesota and of your other territories and to uphold the laws and customs of this kingdom?"

"I solemnly promise."

"Will you to the best of your power support the King, and cause law and justice to be executed in all your judgments?"

She lifted her chin and responded firmly, "I will."

Kirsten and Adele stepped forward with gold crowns, chased with runic knot work and rubies that symbolized prosperity and abundance. The curtseyed to their parents and bowed to Finna Hrutsdottir who took the larger crown from Adele and placed it upon Eric's head.

Her voice rang out. "Receive this crown, symbol of your kingship. Stand firm, and hold fast from henceforth the seat and state of royal and imperial dignity, which is this day delivered unto you and blessed by the gods."

She then turned to Sookie and placed a more delicate crown upon her head. "Receive this crown, symbol of your authority as Minnesota's Sovereign Lady, rightful queen and defender of this realm. May the gods bless you and your heirs unto the end of time."

She then took the other symbols of authority from their kinsmen - the orb, the scepter, the royal sword and the royal ring of sapphire and rubies –and gave then to Eric.

Finna's austere expression relaxed into a smile as Eric and Sookie ascended a raised platform and took their seats upon marble thrones inscribed with runes of prosperity, strength and success. She turned to the Assembly.

"I here present unto you King Eric and Queen Sookie, your undoubted King and Queen: Wherefore all you who are come this day to do your homage and service."

The Assembly cried out with joy, with one voice. "All hail King Eric and Queen Sookie!" while the horns rang out in celebration.

As he surveyed the assembly, Eric's voice resonated with depth and authority. "Hear now assembled guests and oath-swearers. Most important and most binding is the oath of loyalty to one's lord. This oath takes precedence over any oath which precedes it. I ask that my retainers rise, come forward, and swear their fealty before us." He unsheathed his sword and laid it across his lap, so that its point extended just beyond his knee.

Finna Hrutsdottir nodded. A tall, thin faced vampire with hard, passionless eyes, stepped forward, knelt so that the sword point touched his chest.

"I Gustav Elofsson, swear upon my soul, before you my king and queen, and before this assembly always to wrest glory from your enemies, to support you and the royal family in all ways, to avenge all wrongs, and to fight in your cause unto victory or final death…" Eric laid the flat of the sword blade upon Elofsson's head. "This oath we do hear and acknowledge. _Gjöf sér æ til gjalda_, 'A gift always looks for a return.' In return for your service, I grant you the position of Sheriff of Area 3 and ownership of the following commercial properties…"

One by one each subject approached, knelt and swore their oath of allegiance and fealty, each oath swearer was granted some choice item, be it a position within the kingdom, stocks, properties or treasure from Maude's estate. When the last oath was sworn and the last gift, given, Finna Hrutsdottir banged her stave and cried out, "All hail the King and Queen of Minnesota!"

With one voice, the crowd roared, "Hail!"

Eric rose. "Oaths have been sworn and the spoils of war shared. I keep my oaths—reward and renown to the loyal and death to all traitors. The Bound One is fallen. I have vanquished my enemies. Only one remains. William Compton. His crime is doubled because he is both enemy and traitor. There is no disease I spit upon more than treachery. I have crossed the mighty gates of Hel to crush my enemies. Let this death, the last of a great war that rocked the supernatural world, stand as a witness and a warning to oath-breakers. Bring forth the traitor!"

The great doors boomed open.

A ripple of murmuring, then hissing and hooting filled the hall as two massive vampire guards, the "Angels of Death", dragged Bill Compton up the long aisle. They had bound Bill Compton to a silver frame. The silver had eaten through skin and muscle leaving a cross hatch of blackened smoking pulp—every vampire's nightmare.

They paused before the thrones. He ignored Eric, but his burning eyes were fixed upon Sookie, who gazed back steadily. The tension between them increased. Eric's cool fingers touched her arm, and she looked into Eric's clear, observant eyes.

Their daughters came forward bowed and presented them with rune inscribed spears with razor sharp heads. Eric and Sookie rose, and accompanied by Adele.

Kirsten and the High Gythja, walked to the foot of the great ash tree where servants had had set a stump and lit a bonfire in a fire pit beneath an opening in the roof a safe distance from the tree. Sookie froze into blankness as the Angels of Death wrenched Bill Compton from the frame and hoisted him onto the stump.

Eric thigh barely brushed her. _You don't owe him anything. Not even pity._

Resolve flowed across their bond. _I owe him release from this life. I keep my promises._

Eric's mouth tightened. "_And I keep mine. He will die a dog's death. He will die in pain." _

She didn't enjoy Bill's suffering, but she thought of Adele and Jason and the devastating void of loss. The names and faces of many more dead slipped through her thoughts. She thought of the misery, fear, and destruction that Bill had chosen to embrace in order to claim her.

She would never be Bill's victim again. Even now, even with the death Eric had planned as a part of their Victory Blot,

Bill wouldn't feel the pain that Jason felt when he was massacred, or Del's when she was raped. She gripped her weapon as the High Gythja purified the ritual spears; sprinkling them with saltwater and swathing them in sage smoke. Then she purified the bonfire.

Eric nodded and the Angels of Death twisted a thick silver threaded noose around Bill Compton's neck. "I name you traitor; the name of William Compton is cursed and disgraced."

He placed his foot against the stump and kicked it aside. "Now I give you to Odin."

A vampire cannot be asphyxiated, but a silver rope tightened quickly by a body's full weight will eat into the neck of the strongest vampire.

Bill screamed. Once. Before the silver severed his vocal cords. Dark blood gushed. Her back ached between her shoulder blades. Betraying nothing to anyone beyond her family, she shook off the numbness and fatigue, straightened her shoulders and watched. Bill's death would end his treachery and remove a threat. She was a queen now. This was justice.

Eric voice rang with cold authority. "Cut him down."

Sookie tried to keep her heart cold and still. A chill black silence surrounded them as they watched Bill writhe, gurgle, and heal.

Eric handed Sookie his spear and unsheathed his long knife, bent deliberately before Bill, his eyes gleamed with savage joy as he slowly ripped Bill's stomach open and reeled out the thick slimy ropes of intestines, then almost casually, reached in and flipped Bill's useless lungs over his shoulders.

The muscles of his forearm hardened as he grabbed bill's face and forced him to look into his eyes.

"You raped my wife once bastard. You would have raped her again. A 'gift' always looks for a return."

Sookie choked back a cry. Her breath seemed to solidify in her throat as Eric raised his arm and plunged the knife down, twisted viciously, and flung Bill's balls and guts into the fire. Some vampires roared with laughter as Bills screams echoed from the rafters.

She handed Eric his spear.

_End this!_

_So soon? He deserves far more agony!_

She handed Eric his spear, and reversed hers so that the spear head pressed against Bill's chest just above his heart. _It's enough for me. _

Eric stood on the other side of what was left of Bill Compton and placed his spearhead next to Sookie's.

His voice was filled with contempt. "You don't deserve to be released so easily, dog."

Bill smiled hideously. His voice was like an echo from an empty tomb. "You don't deserve _her_!"

Bill turned his head. His eyes locked upon Sookie's and darkened with emotion as he drank her in. She held his gaze as she tensed, shocked by her driving need to end the agony so that they all could find release and freedom. Bill smiled as Eric screamed a victory cry and they drove theirs spears into his heart.

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What do you think?

Did you get what you wanted?

Do you want to know what happens next?

LMK


	29. Chapter 29

Dark Storm Rising

Chosen

A/N: First, kudos to the reader who figured out that there was something fishy about Bill wanting Sookie to look into his eyes! I am sorry that it's been SO long since I updated. Lots happening in my life—a daughter got engaged, two of my boys went off to college, our youngest started full day kindergarten, _plus_ I have written a children's picture book **Solstice Moon, Solstice Sun**.

We've got a video presentation on Kickstarter. Here's the link (just put real dots back in and push it together—it's also on my profile page):

www (dot) kickstarter (dot) com/projects/1462174029 /solstice-moon-solstice-sun- 0?ref=live

If you like it, please consider backing the project.

I have modified elements of an Asatru wedding including the hammer blessing, exchange of keys and sword, and the couple sharing a drinking horn.

_**Thanks AmaZen for your betaing awesomeness.**_

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_**You've been on a road that just don't seem to end**__**  
**__**Where that broken old heart of yours won't ever mend**__**  
**__**You've crossed over bridges and bridges they burn**__**  
**__**So many rivers and so much to learn**__**  
**__**So many bridges and so much to learn**_

_**But the moon is so full, the stars are so bright**__**  
**__**And my hand is steady, my touch is light**__**  
**__**Look in my eyes, hold on real tight**__**  
**__**And I'll waltz you my darling across Texas tonight**__**  
**__**I'll waltz you my darling across Texas tonight**_

_**Emmy Lou Harris**_

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The scent of fresh blood, seared flesh and the registers of death and desperate frantic energy summoned the memory.

_They moved through the deep forest like smoke, barely brushing Spanish moss. Waves of power washed over them from the hidden grove where Odin waited. Twigs snapped. She froze as the sharp scent of pine resin and blood filled her senses. A register of fear and a desperate will toward life. She felt all of this—child of the Fae—half a nature spirit herself. Her father raised his hand as the Whitetail buck staggered into view and fell heavily to its knees, tongue lolling, muscles quivering, sides flecked with foam. The dark hole in its side seeped blood. A gut shot._

_Her father cursed. The clumsy hunters hadn't even bothered to track their wounded quarry. He unsheathed a Seax and handed it to her._

_"It is a sign. Odin's will. Kill it."_

_She gripped the knife. Hesitated, drew on the power within her, even as she realized sadly that her magic wasn't strong enough. Still, she felt she had to try._

_"Maybe I can heal it!"_

_Her father shook his head. "This one was chosen for death—the wound in its gut will fester and it will die in agony unless you act. It is its time to die. Odin has brought it to you. A gift for the gift he will give you."_

_Still she hesitated, knelt, looked into the buck's dark desperate eyes; deep down into memories of fresh grass, sunlight, clear running water, the fierce joys of the rut. Then, the ripping heat of the bullet, darkness, pain. Her mind touched its pain, merged with its pain. It didn't struggle when she tilted its neck and gripped it antlers. In its own way it had told her, 'End this.' She never forgot the feel of her father's blade as she sliced through skin, sinew and veins, to the pulsing carotid artery—severing it from this life. She felt the wind of its spirit pass back into Nerthus—the great mother Earth as her father shouldered its carcass and they continued to the grove._

Her father's harsh code of justice and her mother's modern sensibilities had always been at odds. Even now her mother was driven by a need to end Bill's suffering in this life for the sake of closure. Her mother wanted_ so_ much for this little brother to be born into a world of safety and stability. She felt her mother's hunger for that stability. The Northman Dynasty would be secure, Adele knew, but the birth of this powerfully magical son, as well as future births of Northman grandchildren would rock the Vampire race. Her father had already chosen his name—Sigurd—hero and son of Odin who slew the dragon Fafnir, tasted its blood, and won the Valkyrie Brynhild.

She hoped that Sigurd Northman's wyrd was both greater and less tragic than his namesake's. The future was clouded, but she glimpsed battles as The Northman Dynasty came into its own. Her father, Toller, Stan, Kirsten and her own mother would protect their own fiercely. Trouble would come to them whether they wished it or not, but woe betide those who threatened them or stood in their way.

She also knew that her marriage to Stan tonight at the Victory Blot would raise eyebrows. Stan had been reluctant to give up the pomp of a vampire monarch's wedding, but their need to be joined triumphed over intricate formalities. Minnesota and Texas were already bound by an intricate web of very profitable connections, but the only fortune Stan desired was the shining beauty that was Adele Northman.

When they'd approached her father, his brow creased and his lips tightened. He was thinking of the imminent pleasure of killing Bill, and didn't want to be disturbed with thoughts of weddings.

"The wedding should be grand as befits the daughter of a king."

Stan had met her father's eyes and calmly stated—"The celebration in Texas will be greater than any in Vampire history, but it is our wish to be wed before this assembly tonight."

Adele touched her father's hand, let him feel her own longing for this union. "We've waited long enough, Pappa." And meeting his eyes, in the old tongue, "And mother has given us her blessing. Please. It is all that I desire."

Eric's eyes softened as he gazed lovingly upon her. "So be it."

His lip twitched as he met Stan's eyes. "Besides, you have paid my bride price. I will enjoy being the new owner of the Minnesota Vikings! Under my leadership they will become true warriors instead of possums playing dead at home and getting killed on the road!"

Her parents' thoughts, furious and grim, buzzed through Adele's mind bringing her back to the Victory Blot. She gripped the ash spear—her mother's killing weapon—and focused upon Bill's execution. It was the last stroke in the war, and the sacrifice in thanks for the Northmans' victory. Stan stood behind her, his solid presence anchoring her. Odin was close—invoked to witness and record the victory sacrifice performed in sacred space. She could feel his presence –a dense energy. He felt her too, but held back—giving her this present in Midgard where she would commit herself to Stan.

Her father's eyes blazed into her mother's. "So soon? He deserves far more suffering!"

Her mother held out her hand and Adele handed her the spear. Their eyes met, but her mother's thoughts and focus were on the task before her.

"It's enough. End it."

Sookie raised the spear and tensed for the thrust as Bill's desperate eye's locked upon hers.

Adele took a quick, sharp breath. Unseen by any eyes but hers and Odin's, a tendril , reached out like a groping vine from Bill's eyes to her mother's as spiritual parasites swarmed and surged willing the tendril to connect, desperate to escape their doomed host.

Odin's voice whispered.

_You are the Svass Bru –who bridges the worlds—bride of Odin, queen of the Fae, mate of Stanislaus, King of Texas and your powers are vast. Save your mother. She does not sense her peril!_

Adele inhaled, and forced her way into Bill's mind and soul where spiritual parasites coiled, feeding growing, spawning until all of Bill's will and energy had surrendered to them.

She gagged, cut the tendrils of infection that seethed toward her mother. They had formed a sac. Hooked tentacles writhed back from the light of her presence. She used that light like a laser to cut, extract, and annihilate the threat. Bill's tattered soul huddled in a tiny corner. She called it forth as her parents plunged their spears into Bill's dead heart.

Adele swam between the worlds. She watched Bill's soul vanish into Hella's realm; saw Odin's eyes gleaming with pride. Bill's death was the last stroke in the war against chaos. Images rose from the glistening mist. Her children—fair haired. high cheek boned strangers whom she recognized as future members of the Northman Dynasty, finer-boned beauties with Fae ears and sapphire eyes, and a majestic son filled with dazzling beauty and the fearsome power of the Aesir. Time blurred as faces streaked with tears and radiant with joy rose before her then vanished into the mist.

From a distance she heard her father's and Kirsten's victory cries, the roar of the assembly, as Bill's flaking ashes rose on an updraft and flew out of the smoke hole in the roof. Her mother leaned into her father as he stroked her hair and placed his hand protectively over the slight curve of her stomach. Stan's arm slid around her waist, and as her mother leaned into her father, she too pressed herself against Stan's solid comfort.

As he wrapped his arms around her, his love washed over every fiber of her being grounding her to this world.

Before turning toward the cheering onlookers, their eyes met across the blackened patch that was all that was left of Bill Compton-Kirsten's and her father's still fierce, her mother's distant and weary—and her own? Calm she hoped, filled with love, she knew. She poured that serenity into them filling them with the thought, "We have survived and we are victorious."

For now, that was enough.

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She searched for her great great grandfather Prince Niall and for her cousin Zeline. Although he disapproved of her union with a vampire, Niall would attend as her kinsman and to bear witness of their queen's tie to Midgard for the Fae. She prayed that Zeline would be healed enough to accompany him. The guests filed in to the glittering reception hall. Siobhan, Stan's second, entered first, knelt before Stan and kissed Adele's hand. She was one of the only people outside of the family whom Stan would allow to physically touch his queen.

She regarded them with affection. "My King and my Queen. My soul overflows with joy for you both."

Caped and darkly handsome, King Felipe held a seat of honor. She felt his anger as his dark eyes flashed and held hers. She sent him her love and her resolve. She would speak to her former guardian. He needed to hear what she had to say; there was nothing he could do short of starting another war, which he would not risk even for her sake. They stood before their seats, and waited until the King and Queen of Minnesota were seated. Prince Niall entered the hall beside Zeline and joined the Northman kin as Eric's voice rang out.

"Our Victory Blot's glory will be increased one hundredfold tonight. Tonight you, our Honored Guests, will bear witness to the marriage of our daughter, the Lady Adele, The Svass Bru who bridges the worlds, to her chosen mate the great warrior and our blood brother, King Stanislaus of Texas. With our full consent, they have chosen to exchange their vows before us tonight. So be it."

Eric nodded to Finna Hrutsdottir, high gythja who led Stan and Del to an altar where a replica of Mjolnir, Thor's hammer, rested.

Finna looked at Adele with wonder. "You do not need me to call upon the All Father Lady, for I feel his power within you."

Adele smiled and touched her hand to her forehead in deference. "In this world you are High Gythja."

Stan nodded. "It is our honor that you bless our joining and bind us in marriage."

"Friends and loved ones join with me in blessing the union between Adele Ericsdottir Lady of three realms and King Stanislaus of Texas as their lives' paths now merge to become a single road'

She turned to the guests but her eyes rested upon prince Niall, then upon King Felipe.

"If there is any reason within your hearts that this ceremony should not continue—I charge you to voice it now—" Adele tensed as Felipe's mouth tightened. She could feel his pain and anger but he remained silent.

Finna's eyes swept the guests then turned back to Stan and Adele.

"Stanislaus what is your desire?"

His eyes shone with love and she lost herself in them, forgetting all but his presence and voice. "To join with she whom I love."

"Will you seek to be honest and temper your words and actions with love?

His fingers tightened slightly so that the beat of her pulse surged against his fingers. "I will."

"These things you have promised to your true love and mate before this company and the Gods. As the grass of the fields and the trees of the woods bend together under the pressures of the storm, so too must you both bend when the wind blows strong. But know that as quickly as the storm comes, so equally quickly may it leave. Yet will you both stand strong in each other's strength. As you give love, so you will receive it. As you give strength, so will you receive strength. Together you are one."

Finna turned to their kinfolk. "When this is done your families will be bound. Do you desire that Stanislaus become one with you?"

Adele's father and mother answered, "We do."

Finna nodded. "Then lets the gifts be exchanged."

Eric handed Kirsten a Viking battle sword sheathed in a jeweled scabbard and a sword belt inlaid with victory runes. Smiling, she brought the sword to Adele as Siobhan brought Stan a set of large and elaborately carved keys.

Stan fastened the keys ay Adele's waist, "I give you these keys: my house is yours to rule. Hold them well, my bride. In battle and peace to be by your side, as shall I stand by you."  
Adele responded softly, "I take these keys: well and wisely shall I use them ever."

Her hand trembled slightly as she fastened the sword belt around Stan's waist and looked into his eyes, so filled with love.

"I bring you this weapon, wield it mightily, and hold it well, my husband! In battle and peace to be your strength, as shall I stand by your side."

Finna's eyes sparkled as she lifted the replica of Thor's hammer and blessed her—_ "_Hammer hallow you Daughter of The Blood, bear men and maids of might!"

Finna joined their hands. "I hallow these gifts. Air for hopes and dreams, Fire for passion, Water for harmony and healing and Earth for steadfastness and strength. Recite now your vows."

Finna had chosen the verse, but she and Stan had chosen each other. Their union created a new weave in the web of wyrd and the Vampire race would be changed forever by their choice.

Together they spoke their vows:

"I take you my heart  
at the rising of the moon  
and the setting of the stars.  
To love and to honor  
through all that may come."

Then Finna drew her ritual blade across their wrists and held up a drinking horn to catch their blood and passed the horn to each of them. "I hallow this horn. As the seed is to soil and the fuel is to fire, so is your blood to each other. May it bless and nourish all that is between you."

They gloried in the shared moment as their mingled blood sang through their veins.

Finna lifted her arms, "Hark ye others, gods, goddesses, and wights, who look well on the Middle-Garth's weddings. Cast friendly eyes on the marriage of Stanislaus and Adele. Grant that it be fruitful, filled with joy and truth and that their children be worthy of the best of their line, mighty in luck, wisdom and strength. "

Lifting the emptied horn to the heavens, then to the guests, she shouted, "Hail! Hallowed to the bride-pair this horn shall be, and to gods and goddesses all! Here blessing we ask, for a wedding filled with weal."

And the guests raised their horns and goblets and roared "Hail!"

Finna called the parents forward as she bound the newlyweds' wrists with a cord. "May this bond you make strengthen and grow."

Sookie wrapped the cord again and said, "May this cord draw your hands together in love."

Then Eric gently wrapped the cord again and looking into their eyes said, "And may the vows you have spoken never grow bitter in your mouths."

Then Odin's spoke to Adele alone, "_You are aware of the gravity of these vows—of the responsibility that exists when such a partnership is created. _

And she answered, "_I am…we are."_

"_So be it_!_ By the winds that bring change, by the fire of love, by the seas of fortune and the strength of the earth, so do I bless this union." _

Finna unbound their hands, "I am honored to present to you the monarchs of Texas, King Stanislaus and Queen Adele!"

Then Stan swept his bride into his arms and she gave herself over to the passion of his kiss as the assembly clapped and cheered.

Finna's mouth quirked as she bowed. "The night wanes. Greet your guests and take your bride to the cottage prepared for you on Half-Moon Island."

**_88888888888888888_**

Del willed herself to calmness as Stan dozed. They lay entwined—pulse to heartbeat—a steady, rhythmic river carrying them into their new life together. Her cream colored gown lay in a silken puddle near the fireplace. She was disheveled, slick, and filled with the pleasure/pain of hard, joyous lovemaking.

She bit her lip. Soon it would be dawn. The magic of her powerful blood _must_ hold. Stan's life depended upon it. They would leave for Texas tonight. From the moment they stepped off of the plane, she would be surrounded by subjects and duties. Except for his second, Siobhan, no one would know how much Stan had changed until the new race was established and was strong enough to hold its own against the older order; for Adele and Stan's progeny would be day walkers and the blood of a goddess would run in their veins.

She would mask Stan's heartbeat and the ruddy complexion so that none would know until it was time. By then they would be secure, she hoped. There would be many like Stan by then and their own children would have children—a new species combining old blood and new—blood that was transformed.

Odin hadn't revealed much and she could see less, but they had set this wyrd in motion. Odin had charged her with a task which she must fulfill before they left for Texas… and she must speak to Felipe. For the sake of peace, she would tell him of what she had glimpsed of his future.

Somewhere close by, a loon called out to its mate and Adele's heart was filled with its longing. She and the loon waited, pressing against silence and willing a response.

Then, across the dark waters, its mate answered. Above crooning wind and lapping water, pushing back the darkness, pulsing into jubilant wild laugher as the two found each other and the night was filled with loon song. A Native American legend said that only loons had eyes that could see through the fog and if you found them and learned their song, you would change into a loon forever, just as Stan had learned the song of her blood and was changed forever.

She brushed the slight stubble on his cheek and whispered, "No matter where our journey takes us, the loon song will stay with me, grounding me to Midgard, to you…"

He stirred, and turning toward her cupped her breast—pink and flushed in the ember's glow—and murmured, "My heart."

They rose together, waded into the cool shallows, and watched curtains of silvery mist rise from the lake until still water mirrored blue sky. Day broke and they were unbroken, together, and bound by the magic of what they had become.

_**8888888888888888888**_

_**Hope Stan "waltzed" Del across Texas in style ;-D**_

_**Talk to me!**_

_**And, LMK what you think of our Kickstarter proposal**_

_**Do you want to know what passes between Del and her father**_

_**and what she has to say to Felipe?.**_

_**Is it time for baby boy Northman to make an appearance?**_


	30. Dance with the Tiger

**DSR CH 30**

**Dance with the Tiger**

A/N: Thanks for reading! The lyrics are from a great song about the fear of being alone by the marvelous Rosanne Cash. Just a note about my Stan. My Stan has always been OOC physically and emotionally. I always envisioned my Stan to look like Liam Neesan in the movie Rob Roy. I never envisioned him as nerdy and skinny. I hoped that my physical descriptions made that clear, but thought I'd mention it.

Thanks FDM and AmaZen for sticking with this fic for two freaking years, and thanks FDM for betaing chapters 30 & 31 solo. Love you girls!

_**88888888**_

_**In every woman and man lies the seed of the fear**__**  
**__**Of just how alone are all who live here**__**  
**__**Denying the fear is the name of the game**__**  
**__**To stare at the fear is going insane**__**  
**__**Forgiving the fear is one up on Cane**__**  
**__**Is to dance with the tiger**__**  
**__**And laugh at the rain**_

_**Don't give me your life, I have one of my own**__**  
**__**It was a brilliant idea inventing the home**__**  
**__**Creatures of habit, American fools**__**  
**__**Reaching for stars while we're standing on stools**__**  
**__**Letting it go is jumping the train**__**  
**__**Is to dance with the tiger**__**  
**__**Letting it go though we won't be the same**__**  
**__**Is to dance with the tiger**__**  
**__**Letting it go is the name of the game**__**  
**__**Is to dance with the tiger**__**  
**__**And laugh at the rain**_

"_**Dance with the Tiger" by Rosanne Cash**_

_**8888888888**_

Felipe De Castro paced like a caged tiger. One of his retinue rapped on the door of his suite.

"Come!"

A burly Ray-banned vampire with a blond buzz cut bowed.

"Sire, The Lady Adele, the Queen Adele Davis of Texas, that is…is here. Is there anything else you require?"

A familiar shiver of awareness ran through his body. Yes! Adele was indeed here. Felipe's voice remained smooth and even. It was one of his strong points—this ability to conceal his feelings behind a congenial mask.

"Nothing. Return to your station. And Esteban,"

"Sire?"

"This conversation is for my ears and the queen's alone. Do whatever is necessary to make it so."

The vampire bobbed his head. "Understood your Majesty."

As a young man he had studied Machiavelli's _The Prince_ and, as a vampire king, he had put its lessons to good use: "A wise ruler ought never to keep faith when by doing so it would be against his interests." And more, pointedly, "before all else, be armed."

Adela, saw behind his masks; she accepted the darkness that was part his vampire nature, as well as his fears, passions, hopes, and the part of him that was still of the light, that loved beauty and art and honored those mortal and supernaturals that held these gifts. She saw all of this and yet she loved him. She saw all of him, and yet he did not fear and loath her.

But a wounded man's love turns all too easily to hatred. Adele would never be his, yet his love for her was destroying him. She could have been the light of his life, and now she belonged to another immortal. Adele was Stan Davis's woman for the ages while he, Felipe DeCastro, was alone. Adele was a spring of pure water compared to which mortal women were sea water, plentiful and unsatisfying cunts that left him parched and wanting Adele Northman-Davis's powerful blood, the sleek caress of her beautiful body, a sharing in her art and intellect, and her unconditional and unfailing love.

He hated being in Northman's territory so far away from his kingdom. He was Adele's guardian and Northman's former king; he had fulfilled his role as guardian and all former ties were voided. Fury consumed him. Adele Northman should have been his! Had he not loved her as no other, nurtured her, feted her, and worshipped her? There was no other with such talent, beauty, and magic. He had been smitten from the first time she had stood in front of him, cocked her delicate chin against the violin and played like an angel, as if the composer's soul spoke through her fingers and her bow.

Even then, he had sensed the beauty and wonder that she would become. He had been patient, gentle, and kind. He had watched the slight girl transform into an exquisitely beautiful woman.

And she loved him. He had felt it. Even in her white silk gown before she bound herself to that ancient Texan bastard, he had felt her love. Love yes, but not passion. He had fucked thousands of beautiful women in his life—fucked them until their toes curled and their eyes rolled back in their heads. But he would never _know _Adele. He would never unbutton her blouse cup those warm white breasts, feel her all around him, taste her, make her cry out his name as her back arched in orgasm.

He would never understand her choice for a mate. The thought of Texas plunging and pumping between her thighs made him itch to tear the ape limb from limb! But Texas was powerful, crafty, and very well connected. That he, Felipe DeCastro, considered risking war on her behalf was proof of his love for Adela.

There was a soft knock at the door.

He spoke with cool authority. "Come!" Eye for eye. Tooth for tooth. Pain for pain. His words would be stones he hurled to bruise her—to make her know the pain he felt so that she would never forget.

Her clear, sweet voice called out. "Feliz?"

It was her name for him. Only she would ever call him by that name.

The door opened and she stood before him. Imbued with a strength that did not lessen her femininity, every curve of her beautiful body defined by the emerald green Herve Leger bandage dress, she looked every inch the goddess that she was. Her energy swept over him, her scent like honey and sunlight.

Then his nostrils flared with fury and his fangs ran out. How dare she affront him so? Overlaying her scent—was Davis's sharp, smoky stench. She was powerful enough to have erased it entirely, but she had chosen not to! She lifted her chin and boldly met the cold steel of his accusing gaze.

A tense silence enveloped the room as they regarded each other with searching gravity. He wanted to hurt her and to make her want him at the same time.

He could feel her heart pounding.

"Feliz…"

His voice held an undertone of cold, contempt. "You dare call me 'Feliz?' What joy have you given me—that you should address ne so? It is no longer your majesty's privilege to address me thus."

She replied in a low, taut voice. "I've caused you pain when I wish you only joy. Your majesty, please listen. I want peace between us and between our kingdoms."

A flash of wild grief pierced him and he lashed out, "If you expect me to be mollified at the prospect of wedding one of your future daughters..."

Her eyes flashed. "I don't have the right to offer that and I _will not_ ask for your forgiveness for choosing Stan."

His gaze dropped from her eyes, to her shoulders, to her breasts. "I could take you now and change that choice—"

She pointed one slender finger, and he shuddered as the immensity of her register rolled through the long bones of his body.

Her voice was soft, filled with a hateful compassion. "No, my lord, you could not."

A terrifying realization washed over him. She could break him, a vampire king, like a twig.

He stepped back a pace and nodded. "You have grown."

"That was my fate but it was also my choice. I could have died. It would have been easier for me and for you, but I chose to live. And my choices have brought me here. I have the gift of seeing some of what lies ahead, I've come to share what I have seen, if you will it."

His lips thinned. Knowledge was power. "It is a strange, but very useful gift. Speak, Lady. I will hear what you have to say be it good or ill."

Her eyes softened. "Without love loneliness withers the soul, I can't give you what you want, because I was never meant to be yours. But I have seen the woman who will fulfill you. "

His voice was heavy with sarcasm. "What mortal could possibly?"

"She isn't mortal; at least no more mortal than I was. She's a Daughter of the Blood of the Yoreme, the Yaquis, linked to the Anasazi pantheon. Look for her in the next two decades in the desert outside of Guadalupe, Arizona. Many of her people will fear her because she is a bruja. She will live with little human companionship, but she will not be alone because she is attended by otherworld beings. Her father is Jagoa, a species of Fae, and the Jagoa will be her companions. He mother will die in childbirth and she'll be raised by her grandmother who fears her." Adele smiled. "She'll play the guitar and make it speak and sing. She won't trust you and you'll have to win her respect and love."

"Why should I aid this Indio bruja?"

"Because she will be beautiful and powerful and will bear your children; because you are meant for her and she is meant for you. I have seen this."

His back stiffened. "And what do you have to gain in telling me this?"

Adele sighed. "Why can't you believe that I want you to be happy? To want for you to have someone who will stand by you—who will be your equal and your support? To have what I have in Stan."

There was more of course that he wouldn't care to hear; that the gods required that balance must be maintained. It is the way of all circles. To take, as she had taken Stan and Stan had taken her, something must be given. By themselves, their line would be too powerful—and the gods insisted upon balance.

Her voice was gentle but firm. "Felipe look at me and see the truth in my eyes."

He turned with a human sigh. His gazed traveled over the impossible beauty of her exquisite face, searched her fern green eyes and recognized the truth. For in Adele there was nothing but truth. Love and compassion flowed from her.

He whispered, "Madonna."

A half smile crossed her face. "I'm still Adele."

Unspoken sorrow lived in his eyes. "No you are more. The girl Adele is gone. I forgive you, Lady. Sometimes saying goodbye is the only way. I will watch for this young bruja, and found a dynasty upon her. Then we will see what fate holds in store for the De Castro and the Northman Dynasties.

888888888888

Hope you'll drop me a line and LMK you're out there.


	31. Sweet Child of Mine

A/N: Greetings earthlings! Can you believe that I got another chapter up so fast? Neither can I! I've been thinking about these chapters for quite a while, so they emerged pretty well formed. As we near the end of the fan fiction incarnation of The Northman Saga, I want to thank all of the wonderful readers, writers, and especially my incredible betas and friends AmaZen and FarDariesMai2. I have learned and grown because of my fan fiction experience. Many of you know that I have a little press called Brigid's Hearth, and am in the process of publishing Solstice Moon, Solstice Sun—the first in a series of children's books on the Wheel of the Year, plus I'm writing, writing, writing a YA novel called Red Velvet.

Norse note: I used several heiti (names or designations) for Odin in this chapter; they can all be found in the Old Norse poetic Eddas

**Big hugs to the amazing FarDareisMai2 for editing this chapter. If you haven't read her ff stories, do so; they are some of best ff writing out there. **

_88888888888888_

**Sweet Child of Mine**

_88888888888888_

_**She's got a smile that it seems to me**__**  
**__**Reminds me of childhood memories**__**  
**__**Where everything**__**  
**__**Was as fresh as the bright blue sky**__**  
**__**Now and then when I see her face**__**  
**__**she takes me away to that special place**__**  
**__**And if I stare too long**__**  
**__**I'd probably break down and cry**_

_**woah oh oh**__**  
**__**Sweet child o' mine**__**  
**__**woah oh oh oh**__**  
**__**Sweet love of mine**_

_**She's got eyes of the bluest skies**__**  
**__**As if they thought of rain**__**  
**__**I hate to look into those eyes**__**  
**__**And see an ounce of pain**__**  
**__**Her hair reminds me of a warm safe place**__**  
**__**Where as a child I'd hide**__**  
**__**And pray for the thunder**__**  
**__**And the rain**__**  
**__**To quietly pass me by**_

_**woah oh oh**__**  
**__**Sweet child o' mine**__**  
**__**woah oh oh oh**__**  
**__**Sweet love of mine**_

**Sweet Child of Mine by Guns N**' **Roses**

It was almost time for them to go. Time, for her to shed the last vestige of Adele Northman and take her place at Stan's side as Queen Adele Davis of Texas. There were other dimensions to her life—other manifestations in which she was The Aesir's Svass Bru and Adele of the Fae, soon-to-be-consort of Ciaran Ó Máille, ruler of the Western Fae. But, in this time and in Midgard, her "homeplace," she was content to be Adele Davis.

She'd said her goodbyes to her mother, sister, Pam, and Zeline. Her mother could accept this transition. It was hard, but they'd always been close and would always stay in touch, visit, and of course, she planned to come back for the birth of her brother.

But Pappa was a different matter. She had always been his little girl. After a millennium she'd come into his life—his child, his blessing, his living hope. It was hell on Pappa to turn his back on the emotional giving, sharing, and development that he had poured into her for over eighteen years,; hard for him to step aside and watch her form a new union that committed her to Stan forever.

She needed to help him with that struggle tonight; to give him the gift of compassion and let him know that he would always be a part of her life.

Eric was waiting for her among the patterned beds and arches where herbs, edible flowers mingled with carefully selected vegetables in what her Cajun relatives called a _jardin potagers_ and what her mother called a "kitchen garden." He'd loved the farm and the homey colors and fragrances of fresh herbs, and even the pungent scents of freshly braided garlic and drying onions. It reminded him, he said, of his childhood—of a homeplace that was still dear to him. He crushed thyme between his fingers inhaled its clean, fresh fragrance, and focused upon people and places that were far away and long ago.

She nestled against him without speaking and he put his arm around her.

"I love the smell of thyme."

She smiled. "I know. We had thirty varieties in the old garden."

He inhaled again. "It reminds me of my mother's garden when she worked the earth or culled her herbs. Of sunlight and dark, rich earth. She was beautiful, although I didn't realize it at the time. I hold these things in my memory because I love them. They are a part of who I am, and I never want to lose them."

"You said that Kirsten looks like her."

"Yes. Very much." He snorted. "But my mother was even-tempered and Kirsten has my temper and your mother's stubbornness! Yet I love her and am proud of her for all that. I'll miss her when she become's Sweden's queen."

His eyes brimmed with tenderness. "But you, dearest, how can I tell you of the joy that I have had in raising you and watching you become a fine woman and a great queen—worthy of a saga? Seeing you so happy and radiant gives me joy, but it is tinged with sadness. Being generous with what is dearest to me, does not come easily. You have made a fine choice in Stanislaus, but it was a wrench to give you into his keeping."

They stood in companionable silence and watched a shooting star blaze earthward. In the tempest of his life, Del had always been the calm in the eye of the storm.

There were comforting things she could say. Things they both knew, but that she knew he'd like to hear nevertheless.

"You'll always be a part of me Pappa. Besides, I can pop in."

"But you won't. And when you do it will never be the same."

She sighed. "I guess it won't, but it's better than what _could happen. _ There's more I have to tell you."

Her father raised an eyebrow when she flicked her fingers toward the garden to ward against eavesdroppers and switched to Old Norse.

"My Lord Odin has requested that I perform a task before I depart. He wouldn't approve of my marriage to a vampire unless I agreed to his terms. We're married...but Odin could revoke his blessing...maybe even forbid me from dwelling here...and Pappa...I don't want to leave Stan and y'all."

She felt her father's jaw clench where it rested against her head. He was the Pappa and he hated the idea that another male, even the chief of the Aesir, reserved the right to forbid or allow his daughter to wed.

"What is this thing that the Lord of the Earth and Commander of Leaders requires, dearest?"

She hesitated. How could she tell him this thing? On one hand, it seemed like a great gift, but if transformation brought gifts, it also brought burdens. She still felt pain and sadness for the part of herself that she had left behind when she accepted Odin's healing. If he accepted, would she loose the father she had known and loved for the sake of love? If there were mighty benefits, there were also mighty risks; the supernatural community would view transformed vampires and their progeny as a serious threat. And there was no guarantee that greater power would bring greater happiness.

He squeezed her hand gently. "You are trembling. You trouble yourself too much on my account, min dotter. Tell me what is upon your heart."

Unshed tears glistened in her eyes. If this was Odin's test of the depth of her devotion for Stan, it was also a test of her father's and the Northman line's mettle. How could she ask such a thing of her proud father? How could she not?

She thought about all of the changes her own transformation had brought upon her and upon those she loved, swallowed hard and looked into her father's eyes.

"Pappa, the sacrifice my Lord Odin asks, is great. My lord requires that you drink enough of my blood to make you a new being, like Stan—your body, your vampire nature, would be transformed. Like Stan, you'd be given strength greater than any supernatural in Midgard. Your heart will beat again—not like a human's, but it will beat. I can mask that, for now…but not forever. You'll still need blood, but you'll be able to eat human food, and walk in the sunshine."

His brows drew together, and shock lit his eyes. Adele held her breath.

"The Alfather demands that I… _pierce_ you… and drink from my own daughter?"

Adele shook her head vehemently equally horrified. "No! No! He requests that you drink my blood. A glass would do. It's my blood that he insists you drink. But, Pappa, piercing me is the least of it. It's you that will change. That's what frightens me."

Eric's brow relaxed. "Oh! If that is the case, I agree to the terms. Have I not always embraced change? That is why I still live and am a father of living children, when millions of my kind have perished over the ages. Be happy dearest. Our luck holds. We are strong and will become stronger still. Our wyrd has scourged and toughed us—we have sacrificed and battled with honor. It is our wyrd to forge great and everlasting changes. This transformation is not a curse—it is a gift! The Wise One values you greatly to allow the Northmans to weave these changes into the fabric of the worlds' wyrd."

Adele smiled wryly. "I upset the balance when I chose to marry Stan and establish a family in Midgard. No being bound to Midgard can hold such power unchecked. Balance must be maintained. You'll be that check and the balance until the new lines are established."

Her face clouded with uneasiness. "If something went wrong—which it won't—and Stan tried to do on Midgard what Loki tried to do across the worlds. My lord said that you would have the power to confront him and stop him 'by whatever means if ambition and lust for power overwhelm him.'"

Her father stared into the night. "It is said that a true king is neither husband nor father; he considers his throne and nothing else. In this the Alfather is a true king and his first concern is the health of the nine worlds. But I am bound to this world alone. I put my family and their honor before all else."

His blue eyes met her green ones with limitless tenderness. "I will do this for our clan; for you, and for your mother, for Kirsten and for my son."

He raised his eyes to the starry night and lifted his arms in invocation.

"Odin! Hear me. I accept your charge without regret. For the sake of those I love, I will drink my daughter's blood charged with the Aesir's power. I will change, become stronger than any but one other upon Midgard. I will guard, protect to my true death, and defend the lives you have given into my keeping. I will walk with my mate in the sunlight and glory in the power and beauty of the Northman line!"

**8888888888888**

**Ta-dah! You got a twofer' tonight. **

**Gimme me some review lovin' you sexy things!**

***hugs***

**PS Don't forget to check out (and maybe back) my Kickstarter proposal for my original book**

**Solstice Moon, Solstice Sun (you will LOVE my daughter's illustrations).**


	32. Chapter 32

A/N: I'm working on DSR's grand finale, but can't work Kirsten's wedding into the final chapter. I thought that you'd like some details along with a little humor, a little sex, and a little magick.

As for the Door's _**Close to You,**_ put that song and get wild with your honey!

Remember that this is all taking place 18 years in the future—the iPod has become a multitasking iPanion (the brilliant AmaZen came up with the name).

Here's a little mythology teaser—why would Countess "Folkvanger" give the bride and groom the gift of…cats? There's a reward for the right guess.

_**Thanks to my editors and dear friends, AmaZen and FarDareisMai2, who have taken this journey with me.**_

**_Don't forget to check out the link for my book, Solstice Moon, Solstice Sun, on my profile page :-)_**

_**888888888888  
I wanna get  
Close to you, baby, like black on white.  
Close to you, baby, like the coldest of ice.  
Close to you, baby, like a Siamese twin.  
Close to you, baby, like I'm feeling alright…**_

_**I wanna get**_  
_**Close to you, baby, like the sight of your eye,**_  
_**Close to you, baby, like the heat is to fire,**_  
_**Close to you, baby, close as I can get,**_  
_**Close to you, baby, like water's wet…**_

_**I wanna get**_  
_**Close to you, baby, till I'm feeling alright.**_  
_**Close to you, baby, gonna love you all night…**_

_**I wanna get close to you, baby,**_  
_**I said, close to you, baby.**_  
_**I wanna get close to you, baby.**_  
_**Till I don't know what to say or do.**_

_**8888888888888888888888888888**_

As he streaked back to Muspelheim, the demon Surt's Land of Flame, Ifreat—supernatural paparazzi extraordinaire, stifled a snicker. If the Northmans and their kin ever caught him they'd have his guts for garters—literally.

He'd spent the better part of two decades Northman stalking and made a fortune off of his scoops: Sookie breast feeding the twins—lovely jugs exposed—for the Vamps to drool over; Kirsten necking with her Were ex-boyfriend; a seventeen year old Adele holding hands with Stan; and even a rare shot of Prince Niall presenting Adele with a bouquet of softly glowing azure roses after her first performance at Carnegie Hall in New York.

He'd had a few close calls, and hoped never to come face to face with Eric or Sookie Northman. But all species of demons are hard to kill. Besides, he paid the dragons of Muspelheim to guard his bolt hole. No one—barring the occasional god or goddess—got past _them. _

But his latest feat would secure his fortune as well as his fame! Let dabblers take the same boring shots of the bride and groom tying the knot, and schmoozing and canoodling at the endless receptions and after parties. He'd done what all the competitors only dreamed of doing; what the satellite and spy cams hadn't accomplished. By taking a shortcut through his home base in Muspelheim and bribing a dragon to add another layer of cloaking, he'd managed to work his way between the strongest wards in Midgard.

He'd bagged images of Toller Hammarskjöld straddling his teenaged bride's shapely shoulders atop an iridescent altar of solid ice draped with reindeer hides. Frame by frame she tilted her lovely neck back and took him deeper and deeper—until he was buried to the root. His images showed the young queen's golden satin skin and sweet curves against flowing folds of ice.

His images captured more than sex—they captured the magick, mystery, and energy of a powerful rite intended to raise energy that would bless the couple and the land itself. Back in the day, two or three thousand years ago, the priestesses performing The Great Rite rocked your world-but it seemed that The Great Rite had only improved with time.

By the time the Supe Mirror ran the images he'd be safely back in Muspelheim. There would be a hue and a cry from vamps connected to the Northmans-–but who were bloodsuckers to moan about impropriety? The Supe public would eat this up! By the time Northman and his kin were ready to flay him alive with a steel knife, he'd be safely back in the Land of Flame in his villa beside the boiling springs with the hottest deamonesses in the nine worlds.

That shot would make him a very rich demon. In a decade or so, when the Northman clan had written off the incident, he'd sneak back into Midgard, buy a villa with a private beach near Rio and surround himself Latin beauties. He preferred the sultry type, but he was willing to try a Nordic beauty of the young queen's proportions. Ah well, he'd have his pick of the girls soon enough.

A frigid wind stung his face. A wintry woods two hundred kilometers north of the Arctic circle was no place for a fire imp. What was Hammarskjöld up to? The king of Scandinavia was rich enough to take his bride anywhere, but had designed the Dream Room's landscape for this night when he and his queen would join in The Great Rite.

The ground rumbled. A reindeer herd was on the move. Something had disturbed it. His nostrils flared, but he was upwind and the air told him nothing. He paid no attention to the swirling rivers of greenish-blue light that danced and flared above the treetops as he sped toward the portal to Muspelheim.

Just ahead,a crack appeared then widened in a snowdrift. Almost there!

Then-Ack! A strong white hand shot up from the smooth snow. He was face to face with a glaring, snow covered Alice in Wonderland. Fuck! It was Northman's child Pam ! He glared back—the hatred was mutual. She'd be a thorn in his side for eighteen years.

She shook him like a bagged rabbit while a pack of hunting werewolves bayed around him. He kicked and thrashed, as her nails dug into his flesh and pressed against his windpipe until his lungs screamed for oxygen. His options had narrowed to two-–torture and a miserable death in a Vampire prison, or spontaneous combustion. Well, that choice was a no-brainer. He gathered his reserves hoping that he had enough fire magick left to save his ass. She squeezed his balls and stripped off his clothes with Vamp speed.

Ifreat yelped and howled louder than the Weres while psychotic undead Alice scanned every inch of him with frosty blue eyes.

Her snotty British voice hissed, "You've ruined my evening and my manicure, but that is the least of your worries! Hand over the goods now—or you'll regret it for what's left of your miserable life."

Ifreat glared. "Let me go …cut a deal. Jewels—dragon's hoard—all yours."

Alice's face puckered with prim distaste. "Do you think you're the only one with friends in high places? A goddess in the family tops a dragon that'd just as soon eat you. I HATE getting my hands dirty."

She sighed and flexed her fingers.

"Pity surgical gloves freeze in these temps. But needs must. If the memory card is up your ass, I'm pulling your bowels out with it imp!"

_**8888888888**_

Eric held both of Sookie's hands, as she maneuvered over the spa's marble edge and eased down next to him on the deep submerged seat.

He half floated her onto his lap. She sighed as he massaged her neck and the small of her back,

He paused and cupped her breasts, then slipped his hand downward.

"Alone at last!"

Their son sent a foot into his father's palm.

Sookie snorted "Depends how you define 'alone.' Not even born yet and Sigurd's got' baby radar.' "

Eric grinned. His hand slipped between her thighs and his fingers stroked lightly. "Perhaps he'll sleep. Besides we need to prepare for his water birth…"

She jerked and gasped as his fingers circled, explored, and dipped into her. He nuzzled her neck inhaling her scent.

"I've missed you. It's been three days."

He frowned and his fingers slowed. "The wedding went well, and Toller's security did an excellent job of holding the paparazzi at bay—except for Ifreat. That damned paparazzi demon is the worst of the pack. It's time we hounded _him_. Toller's left a juicy tidbit that would make him a fortune. He'll walk right into our trap. But he's a worthy opponent…slippery as an eel and too wily for his own good."

"I hope whatever y'all have planned works. He's been a pain in our asses since the girls were born."

She chuckled. "Remember that evening when he frightened Del and she channeled so hard she char-broiled him? What a shot that was! First time she ever channeled."

The line of his mouth tightened a fraction. "The little bastard made it into our back yard! If he hadn't tumbled through his rat hole back into Muspelheim, I would have made him wish that Surt was flaying him alive with cold steel!"

Sookie pressed her hand over his and brought him back to the task at hand," "Jason used to say—When life gives you lemons find a buddy with tequila and salt. Wanna party?"

She lathered up and caressed the smooth muscles of his broad back, lean hips, and long muscular thighs. He lifted her hips and slid into her, sheathing him completely. The moved together fluidly, in total harmony. She ground her hips lightly, slow insistent circles that sent fire coursing through him. He groaned and increased the tempo. "You fuck…so…good."

Eric didn't mind the fact that she was roughly the size of a sea cow. Floating opened a world of possibilities.

His big hands explored the soft line of her waist and hip, then he lifted and turned her to face him. Her nipples grazed his chest and firmed. He feather touched each of her hardened nipples with his tongue, and then pressed a kiss into the palm of her hand. "Even at eight months you are a goddess, and you are mine."

She arched into him meeting each possessive thrust. Her breath came shallow and fast. Ripples of ecstasy flooded through her and she screamed against his throat—shuddering uncontrollably. Eric gave a harsh groan. His magnificent body shuddered as he spilled into her. For minutes, hours it seemed, they clung to each other—feeling each other's love and completion through their bond. His tongue traced the soft fullness of her lips, "My goddess…"

Then his iPanion announced,"Urgent call from Pamela Ravenscroft."

"Turn it off."

Eric winced and put his hand to his temple. "Won't matter. She's calling to me_, _child to maker._"_

Sookie sighed and settled herself more firmly on Eric. "Damn. Talk to her. But no visuals."

Pam's clipped British accent became much more noticeable when she was excited.

"I caught the scummy little fire imp and destroyed all his images of Kirsten and Toller in the act of performing …."

Sookie winced. "We get the picture Pam. Where is he now?"

Pam's voice crackled with irritation and disgust. "Once I removed the chip from his…"

Sookie clucked her tongue.

Pam chuckled. "Squeamish isn't she?"

Pam continued, "I replaced it with a register tracker Adele came up with that bonded to his energies."

Eric beamed. "Well done Pam!"

There was a pause. Eric's brows creased.

"What is it you're not telling me?"

The voice became even more clipped and British. " The little bugger tried to bribe me. Then he blistered my my hands which made me very cross indeed!"

Her voice trembled. " I'm sorry master; the imp reduced himself to cinders a split second after I retrieved the images and a bit of his digestive system. Next time I'll know to set the little bastard in ice first and ask questions later. "

Eric laughed and visibly relaxed. "So, Toller's ruse worked. Don't fret. You did well, my child. "

Sookie shook her head. "Toller risked Kirsten's reputation! Without letting her know! She's a queen not a centerfold! If _I_ had known, I would have had words with him! I know we've been trying for nigh on two decades, but there have to be other ways."

Eric's mouth quirked. "We were quite sure we'd get him. The outcome was worth the risk." He stroked Sookie's cheek. "Stop grinding your teeth, lover."

She balled her hands into fists. "But if his 'ruse' hadn't worked, Kirsten would have been mortified. Toller took a great risk! The Great Rite is a sacred and very private ritual- not fodder for a gossip rag!"

She took a deep breath and calmed hersef enough to add ,"Not that I don't have great faith in your ability to protect Kirsten, Pam."

She could almost see Pam's smirk. "No offense taken, Sookie. Before you send elf bolts into your son-in law, you should know that Toller _did _tell Kirsten that he planned a trap for the imp."

"But not when, I'll bet! You vamps!"

Eric wrapped his arms around Sookie before she could heave herself to her feet.

"Calm yourself…you're upsetting Sigurd…"

Sookie eyebrows rose, "_I'm _upsetting the baby?

Eric rubbed her back. "The imp saved his ass, literally, but at a cost. It will be fifty years at least before he reforms in the fires of Muspelheim, a highly uncomfortable process much like the Christian purgatory. Even better, Adele's tags are tied to his energies, so we'll be waiting for him."

Pam chuckled. "_If _he reappears, I doubt he'll stalk the Northmans again. For one thing there will be more of us, to deal with. I hacked the Supe Mirror's news feed. This is what will go up in about an hour. Let me know if I need to make changes."

"Ugh!" Sookie winced as the baby flipped, moving his knee in a smooth arc across her wet stomach. Eric watched the acrobatics with fascination.

Pam snickered. "Eric? You seem…distracted."

Sookie stood, "Unfortunately, it's not what you think."

Eric rose and steadied her, kissed her neck. "Stop frowning, lover. We have to get used to interruptions."

He lifted her carefully out of the water. After they'd dried each other off with warmed, fluffy towels, she slipped on her nightgown. Eric stayed in his birthday suit.

Although she was perfectly capable of waddling off to bed, she let her Viking scoop her up and cradle her in his powerful arms.

One of the things she loved most about Eric was his tenderness; it was the softer side of Eric reserved for those he loved and those who loved him.

When he and Adele told her that Odin had basically ordered Eric to drink Del's blood to maintain a "balance of power" in Midgard, she had insisted upon being with him. She had held him while he drank, connected by the blood and love that united them-feeling everything he felt as he transformed.

Evolution was supposed to be a gradual transformation from one condition of existence to another—but perhaps Eric's ability to flow so effortlessly into this new life was the result of his own evolution over a millennium.

He drank Del's blood for the sake of family, and for the sake of the worlds to which they were connected, understanding fully that whatever he did to himself, he did to the web. Eric had adapted and found opportunity for growth. He reveled in sunlight, marveled at the taste of honey, oranges, and enjoyed Mackmyra Svensk whiskey from his homeland.

His ability to read vampire minds gave him a huge advantage; he knew without doubt that the men and women who surrounded him were absolutely loyal. She had shown him how to block the onslaught of mind-chatter and to listen in without causing suspicion. If anything the transformation had made them even closer; they made love in the sunlight and he understood what it felt like to be a powerful telepath.

With a smooth ripple of muscle beneath sleek bare skin, her naked husband settled next to her on the bed, stretched out his long legs, and activated the secure site on his iPanion.

She tucked a soft pillow under her belly and rolled sideways, throwing her leg over him. He turned the screen toward her.

"Care for a look?"

Sookie yawned, closed her eyes, and snuggled closer.

"Kirsten and Toller are fine. Pam and Toller took care of things with the imp. I'll have a look over coffee tomorrow."

She smiled drowsily. "I'll make espresso. Funny how you like the strong stuff now that you're menu's expanded."

Eric stroked the pulsing vein on Sookie's neck. "I've always liked 'the strong stuff.'"

When her chest rose and fell with the rhythm of slumber and her mind turned toward the dream world, Eric checked with Pam to make sure that the Mirror hadn't updated copy or images.

Apart from a bit of harmless gossip regarding Pam, an Undine, a Were, a Duke's wife and a hot tub, the article was what he had expected. He was sure that the Mirror's editor was disappointed, and was probably worried sick that Ifreat had sold his scoop to the competition.

The video clip showed Kirsten and Toller waving to a crowd of well-wishers from the balcony of his Stockholm residence. They were wearing the formal contemporary clothes of the second wedding. Eric grinned and shook his head; once a Viking, always a Viking. Even in a tuxedo, with his hair pulled back in the eighteenth century queue he favored, Toller looked every inch the Viking that he was.

Wearing a straplesswhite silk gown with a three-meter train decorated with intricately beaded runes for prosperity, joy, and fertility, Kirsten had never looked more beautiful. Her long golden hair cascaded in waves to her waist, crowned by a golden knotwork tiara created by Prince Niall's goldsmiths.

Eric and Kirsten fought often—but he loved her fiercely and was immensely proud of her. She was a queen in her own right now, as was Adele. His eyes glowed with pride. They were, in fact, the most powerful Daughters that had ever graced the earth. The story was what he'd expected. Many supernaturals would be sorely disappointed that two such eligible and beautiful singles were off the market. The copy read:

"_**Sorry ladies, he's taken! Called the most sought-after invitation of the year, the Solstice wedding of King Toller Hammarskjöld of the Kingdom of Scandinavia and Lady Kirsten Ericksdottir Northman of the Kingdom of Minnesota boasted a guest list of one thousand. Lady Kirsten said "Yes" to King Toller of Scandinavia in a traditional Norse wedding followed by a contemporary "white wedding" during which her mother, Queen Sookie of Minnesota, used a handkerchief to dab away tears.**_

_**The thousand high society bigwigs, politicians and royals who've received an invitation were treated to a two day sartorial extravaganza. Celebs included the always youthful Lady Gaga, who swears she's a vamp but not a 'vamp," and her third husband former teen heartthrob Justin Beiber. **_

_**Except for a loud clap of thunder following the Norse ceremony's "hammer blessing," festivities went off without a hitch. Toller Hammarskjöld's brother-in-law King Stanislaus Davis of Texas served as best man, while the bride's sister, Queen of Texas, and internationally renowned violin virtuoso Adele Northman-Davis acted as Matron of Honor. **_

_**Getting the dress code just right for the contemporary and traditional Norse ceremonies, as well as for the formal and informal receptions, was as tricky as it was costly. **_

_**According to famed Vamp fashionista Pamela Ravenscroft, the trick is "being both fashion forward on the one hand and retaining a sense of tradition and reverence on the other. The best color schemes for a glamorous wedding are the colors of the bride's lipstick and dress: red and white. In deference to the groom's color preference, we planned a reception decorated in red, including table cloths, chair covers with white minimalist table decorations to tone things down." **_

_**The estate and surrounding grounds were decorated with blood red and snow white flags- the wedding's theme colors - and with white flowers. The ceremonies, color scheme, music, and palatial party venue created a smoldering and memorable event. **_

_**Apart from a pair of twin demonesses decked in feathered fascinator hats atop glittery rainbow colored bee-hive hairdos, the guests were appropriately fashion forward for the contemporary ceremony and fashion-backward for the Nordic ceremony.. **_

_**The couple received thousands of gifts. From the spectacular—a private island off the Amalfi coast from the king and queen of Italy—to the puzzling—a pair of identical Russian Blue cats sporting platinum, diamond and ruby collars from an eccentric "relation," the Countess Freya Folkvanger.**_

_**After the ceremony, and formal reception, the couple flew north to Jukkasjärvi, Sweden where the groom designed a spectacular wedding suite at his famed ice hotel. Details to follow!**_

Eric's mouth twisted wryly. 'Details to follow?' Like hell they would! Instead of Ifreat's juicy tidbits, the Mirror's editor in chief would have to run a feature on demons missing due to self-immolation.

He lifted a curling tendril of Sookie's hair. When Appius took him and ended his human life, wrenching him from his clan, his children, everything that he knew and loved, this wyrd became a possibility.

But it was this beloved one beside him, his heart's desire—lover wife, friend, comrade in arms—who had brought it to fruition. Sookie stirred, murmuring in her sleep. There were no words for what he felt; she filled his world and without her his life would be hollow. Theirs was a priceless love that stood above the surge of time. Even resting, they moved together turning towards each other, seeking each other out.

She was even more beautiful now—a fruitful goddess—her breasts ready to feed their son—her nipples dusky rose –so sensitive to the touch of his lips and tongue. Sookie had insisted upon importing Dr. Maryanne Ludwig for the birth. She had delivered supernatural babies for centuries and Eric was happy to pay her truly exorbitant fees if her presence soothed Sookie. Soon, in about one month, it would be time to move Sookie to the birthing room at their fiercely protected lodge in Northern Minnesota.

The gods could be cruel, but in this woman, they had blessed him beyond measure.

His hand stroked her belly and paused as he concentrated on Sigurd's strong, bright register. Sigurd Northman - _his son_. Adele and Prince Niall were both terribly concerned about ensuring the baby's connections to the elemental spirits-especially the Undines the Sky Fae's elemental foes—the water spirits who had helped to drown Sookie's parents.

Niall had explained, "As a Mage he must control all of the elements and the elementals attached to them must favor him. He will be stronger than most humans, but he will not have super human strength."

Adele had added, "But he'll have immense magical powers and he must control them and establish a connection to all of the elements so that the elemental spirits work with him, not against him."

So, Sookie and he had agreed to a water birth as a way of securing Sigurd's connection to that element.

It was time for Sigurd to come forth from the haven of his mother's womb into the arms of his loving family, but also into a supernatural world that would fear him for the power her wielded. He thought of all of the things he could do with this son that he wasn't able to do with his girls.

They would be together by sunlight and starlight, fish in the rivers and lakes of his kingdom, hunt, learn the working of his kingdom, and play the warrior sport of football. His son would be a modern-day Viking, fit and fierce in commerce and battle, shrewd, adventurous, and powerful. He sent him love and the comfort of his powerful presence.

"Fadir and Modir will hold you very soon min son…"

_**88888888888**_

Happy Thanksgiving to my fellow Yanks!

One of the things I'm thankful for is the support y'all have given me and this story.

Don't forget to check out the link to my book on my profile page :-)

_**888888888888**_


	33. Chapter 33 Great Rite

_**A/N: DSR was never the normal ff—why change that now? **_

_**Congrats Murgatroid, The Viking Mistress, and Bacchanalia7 who guessed that the gift of Cats was from the Goddess Freya who drives a chariot drawn by two lion sized kitties Bygul and Trjegul.**_

_**Kirsten's invocation is my gift to them.**_

_** Deeply magickal and sacred, The Great Rite is sex magick intended to bless the land and each other . "Isa" is the rune for ice and stasis. "The Goddess" is Maiden, Mother, and Crone. "The God" is Youth, Hunter/Father, and Sage. I wrote this poem based upon meditation, journeying, and experiences in the marriage bed ;-)**_

_**Birth chapter is next. **_

**_The Great Rite_**

**_8888888888_**

_My breath rises in clouds_

_as I pull in Winter's spirit:_

_Its stillness,_

_The sting of its iron-sharp cold,_

_Its white and blinding light,_

_The irony of snow—that insulates and freezes-_

_and of ice-water of life waiting to flow again-_

_as it flows_

_in my blood,_

_in my tears,_

_in my slickness and my lover's semen._

**_)0(_**

_Cleansing__ water, energize us._

_Bring us a new expression of loving ourselves, each other, and the spirit of this land._

_Water of the Mother, nurture and heal us,_

_Bathe us in your cleansing wetness until I am The Goddess_

_And you, my love, are The God._

**_)0(_**

_I unhook your fur-lined cloak_

_as you unclasp mine._

_They fall in bulky folds to the icy floor._

_We will become the altar, the sacrifice, and the celebration,_

_for our naked bodies are beautiful and holy._

_**)0(**  
_

_Woods, wind, walls, this frozen altar draped in hides,_

_are all __ caught in the grip of ice._

_Even the waxing moon _

_is circled by __an icy halo_

_pale as a whisper_

_against the shimmering dance of Northern Lights._

_**)0(**  
_

_Touched by winter's breath_

_And enlivened by passion's fire,_

_we give ourselves to_

_this flame that transforms_

_Isa's cold and stasis_

_into the liquid warmth of ecstasy and generation._

_**)0(**  
_

_I am Goddess. You are God._

_My mate. My lover ._

_Our bodies of earth and our spirits intertwine_

_I inhale your essence-timeless and male-_

_as I skim my hands_

_over sleek skin,_

_the smooth planes of your back,_

_hard contours of bone and sinew,_

_the corrugated leanness of your belly,_

_to the root of you_

_where I kneel and worship._

_**)0(**  
_

_My warrior, my sea wolf,_

_my world centers on the jutting feel of your lean hips_

_and the flex of you buttocks beneath my hands._

_ You poise to take me_

_Rigid—Throbbing-_

_Shaft to sheath._

_**)0(**_

_The Maiden transforms._

_You are the Hunter and the Seed Sower_

_I am the center of all that you desire_

_I am the Mother's dark womb_

_open to the God._

_**)0(**  
_

_Fire of love, warms us._

_Fire of passion, ignites us_

_Fire of consumption burns away what we no longer need_

_Fills us,_

_spills from us._

_Radiating outward_

_from the core of our beings,_

_it pulses through stone, root, seed, spirit,_

_and back into our hearts._

_**)0(**  
_

_We cry out in wonder and ecstasy_

_For we have joined_

_ earth, air, fire, water and spirit_

_and soar beyond self._

_We have touched the divine creative force of the universe_

_And the God and Goddess are made manifest in us._

**)0(**


	34. Chapter 34 LOVE LIVES HERE

**A/N: **_**Thanks for reading Dark Storm Rising! Writing for the SVMs has given me dear friends and supportive readers. I can't thank you enough for all of the amazing support you have given me.**_

_**It's also toned up my writing muscles and given me the confidence to focus upon my original work. Solstice Moon, Solstice Sun the first in a series of children's books on The Wheel of the Year, will be published in the fall of 2012. **_

_**Please read this before you read the chapter:**_

_Elementals are nature spirits that have only one element to their nature- usually air, fire, water or earth. __**Air**__ is the essence of thought and learning, the element of the nature of the mind. __**Water**__ is the essence of love and fertility, the element of the nature of emotions. __**Fire**__ is the essence of purification and change, the element of the nature of the will. __**Earth **__is the essence of grounding and stability, the element of the nature of balance._

_In order to make peace with the water elementals and join Sigurd to them strongly, his parents choose a water birth. He is born into salt water (salt representing the element of earth) the water is warmed (incorporating the element of fire). Water conducts electricity (born of fire and air) so the elements will now be in harmony. During his birth all the elements are joined so that fire's will and air's intellect are joined with water's emotions and grounded in earth within the birthing pool._

**FarDareisMai2 and AmaZen, thank you for consistently being there for me for years. I couldn't have written DSR without your support, editing skills, honesty, formidable intellects, and most importantly, your friendship. What a privilege it's been to work with you! **

**8888888**

_**Our lives were following parallel lines**_

_**You going down your way, me going down mine,**_

_**Then you looked to your left, I looked to my right**_

_**Our roads intertwined in the cool of the night.**_

_**We struggled, we faltered, we bent and we swayed,**_

_**Troubles fell back as new life was made.**_

_**Won't take it for granted. How precious and dear;**_

_**This gift from each other, we'll carry with care.**_

_**Love lives here**_

_**We'll build a safe place to grow and to give.**_

_**Love lives here.**_

_**This is the place where love lives.**_

"Love Lives Here" by Nancy Josephson - Angel Band

**)0(**

Eric gazed out the bay window of the royal hunting lodge. It didn't surprise him in the least that Scandinavian immigrants had taken to this stern, frozen land. Despite its hazards, they had embraced its fierce strength. They had worked hard, built low log houses, prepared for the cold and dark of Winter and had celebrated the returning light, asking the deity they worshipped for help through the hard times so that they might see the next year's planting and reaping.

One county north, the latest snow storm had taken lives and there were ghosts on the wind, drawn by light and energy. But, unlike the elementals, they couldn't get through Del's magick barriers. Nothing uninvited could enter. The Svass Bru had made sure that the Northmans weathered the storm safely in this great lodge set amid endless trees and frozen lakes.

Despite sub-zero cold, winter held no sway in the warm, protected lodge. Eric had planted and he would reap a bountiful harvest. This was his night of joy and light. Tonight his son would be born in the birthing room across the hall from this nursery suite. His dearest children and kin-Del, Kirsten, Zeline and Pam would be there to welcome the child, who would be surrounded by the love of some of the most powerful women and men in the Nnine Wworlds.

He recalled the prayers his kindred had offered in his childhood, "_The cold frost bites at our skin and the weather rides hard on our souls._ _Let us make haste to honor the Shining Ones, that we may turn toward the light of the coming year under their protection_."

He knew gods and elementals, the Shining Ones, would favor the Northmans, for they had won favor through blood, sacrifice, and marriage. He would never forget Adele's sacrifice—for their sakes, she had accepted an existence he could no longer fathom. Knowing this, he accepted his own changes and the power they gave him, and planned for the future.

For a millennium, light had been his enemy. Now it was once again his friend. His existence, both physical and spiritual, was no longer tethered to darkness. It was up to him and all of those who chose this new path— Stan, Sookie, Adele, Toller and Kirsten— to make sure that the family and the new day-walking kindred became strong and successful. He offered up the old prayer again as evergreens cast blue-black shadows over unbroken snow drifts and moonlight glittered on rough ice.

The spirits of the elements would participate—sprites of the air, undines beneath the icy surface of the lake, salamanders in the glowing coals of the fire, and earth gnomes. In their role as priestesses, Adele, Kirsten, and Zeline would invite them into sacred space when Sigurd began his journey out of the shelter of Sookie's womb.

Sigurd's life would touch many worlds, but he would be grounded in Midgard; here he would be protected and nurtured for many years. Eric's eyes blazed—many kin and sympathetic beings would ensure that Sigurd's childhood and youth were a time of safety and growth. But he was Sigurd's father. It was his duty to prepare the child for a time when he would be the strongest Mage in Midgard. His family—a family that changed the Vampire and Fae bloodlines— would need him.

He closed his eyes, focusing upon his son and spoke to the radiant soul he perceived.

"You are a blank book. Not even the gods can reveal how you'll fill the pages of this life. We are ready to greet you…but do not give your mother too much trouble."

Eric gazed at his wife with love. He was linked to all of his children, biological and vampire, but his connection to Sookie was soul deep; they were one.

Wrapped in her grandmother's worn afghan, Sookie slept fitfully in a rocker recliner. It was the calm before the tempest of birth. In the early morning, after the snow had stopped, they'd watched a flock of snow geese in the sky catching sunlight on wings as golden as her hair. She had held her breath—as if to stop time—as they shared the beauty and wonder of that daybreak.

A nimbus of light played around her, the bright manifestation of her energy interlaced with that of airy sprites. The Brigant's ancestral elementals danced around her with excitement. Shortly after Sookie's second cup of morning coffee, her pains began to rise and fall in contractions five minutes apart.

By mid-day, though she could still joke and talk through one, she was getting tired. Still, she insisted that she wanted to walk, waving off Kirsten and Del's offers of drinks and cool compresses. She only paused to lean on Eric when the contractions got intense.

By late afternoon she'd stopped joking and talking—turning inward to focus on the contractions. After an interval, Dr. Ludwig declared that the labor was progressing slowly but surely and put her small, adamant foot down. "If you won't get into bed, you'll have to rest on the recliner! When the contractions are steadily two minutes apart it will be time for the birthing pool."

Sookie woke up with a contraction, in the grip of an unbearable pressure.

"What the…Eric!"

His eyes blazed into hers as he helped her stand—then squat.

"What can I do?"

"The pressure's so…bad!

Dr. Ludwig snapped on a glove. But before she could check, Sookie felt a "pop" and water gushed onto the floor. Elementals shimmered above it like mist above a pond.

Dr. Ludwig snorted. "That got their attention!" She glared up at Eric like a diminutive general, "Birthing stool! Now!" Then more gently to Sookie, "Sorry dear. Have to check you."

Sookie groaned as Dr. Ludwig's intruding fingers probed her through a contraction. "It's time to move to the tub. They're a little less than two minutes apart now. You're a hundred percent effaced and nine centimeters. Eric can lift you."

"The hell he will!" Sookie panted. "I'm crawling! And turn off that damn music!"

Eric's shocked eyes met Ludwig's. She chuckled. "You expect southern manners from a woman in labor?"

**)0(**

In the birthing room across the hall from her parents' suite, Kirsten softened her gaze and regarded the swirling waters of the birthing pool. Without jets or wind, the water rippled and swirled—rainbow shimmers like the phantoms of tropical fish. Sparkling vapor rose from the water, curving into wispy mermaid forms. She shook her head in wonder. "I've never seen so many undines! "

Zeline shrugged and extended one finger towards the swirling vapor. One misty form hissed and bared sharp, fishy teeth. "They aren't here for us, that's for sure. We smell too much of the air sprites; Brigants are Sky people.

Kirsten's brow creased. "That wasn't exactly welcoming. Are you sure they'll cooperate?"

Del readjusted a large quartz crystal on the window sill where several sylphs hovered and buzzed on crystalline wings. Looking into their silver bright eyes, she silently invited them to enter the water when she called upon them. Then she walked to the birthing pool and held her hands over the water. The undines coiled up her arm like steamy bracelets.

"I've made peace with them for myself and my people now that the Ulswaters are no longer in power. When the undines bond with Sigurd they'll be pledged to protect the Northmans as well as the Brigants. Water will be Sigurd's strongest element. You startled them Zee; they just need time to recognize your register. I've already introduced them to Mom. When everyone's in the room, we'll seal the circle."

Kirsten checked the fire, where three granite rocks glowed red. "The fire elementals—the salamanders—have awakened the earth gnomes in the stone."

Adele nodded in satisfaction. "Good ! The earth spirits will contribute the basic energy of life in its rawest form; the fire spirits will add passion and motivation. These elementals will make him strong in spirit, expand his magical powers, and be a source of healing energies."

Kirsten held out her hand, "Come on Zee. Try it again. You're Sigurd's kin and we all have to be on their good side before we cast the circle. The undines govern magnetism and chemistry, so they'll stimulate and feed Sigurd's intuitions and psychic abilities." She winked. "They'll also help him attract love."

Zeline snorted held out her hand tentatively "As if _that_ will be a problem! He'll need the power to deflect, not to attract."

The girls all jumped as Eric bellowed, "Get those damn undines to cooperate! I won't have them hissing at your mother!"

A loud "Nnnngh!" of pain brought forth another Viking bellow.

"Ludwig! Should she be squatting? Her belly's still hard!"

Del's eyes flicked to Zeline and Kirsten as her mother's rebel yell resonated. Several elementals buzzed in agitation. They'd better get used to that particular yell.

Her mother voice was low, fierce. "Don't you _dare _try to make me stand. I'm crawling!"

They could hear her humming tonelessly—her way of working through the pain.

Her mother messaged them next. _My water broke—_Then a pause, and "No damn bathrobes!" reverberated across the hall.

Del winced in sympathy as Sookie breathed through a long hard contraction. _Dad's getting in with me. _

Her father's voice interrupted, "But lover, the girls…"

"Will have to blush on my behalf! Put on your swim trunks –you're not pushing out a baby!"

—_Can't rest—contractions are close, elementals are buzzing around me like flies, your dad's wound as tight as a bowstring, and Ludwig's snapping on gloves to do another internal exam_.

Zeline winced, "I'll fetch Pam."

Adele shook her head. "Stay put. She's on her way. We need to ground and center."

Kirsten grinned. "Faðir will let mom have her way for about one more contraction, then he'll pick her up and put her in the birthing pool, whether she wants it or not."

Adele flicked the door open and Dr. Ludwig walked straight to the birthing tub to check the waters and thermostat. A few moments later Eric entered, cradling their mother in his arms. He had put on swim trunks…for their sakes. Faðir had strict standards. Of course mom was nude. There was no point in wearing a robe when she'd be giving birth in the pool.

Dr. Ludwig nodded with satisfaction. "Good work girls. My equipment's in place. The air and the water are nice and warm and the undines are cozy. Let's get her into the tub and cast the circle."

Del and Zeline checked the stones they'd placed around the birthing pool, to make sure that they were placed precisely on Cardinal Points to concentrate the elementals' energy and protect the sacred space.

Adele held her hands above the water of the deep birthing tub, which resembled a miniature Roman marble bath. It was so Northman— their father never did anything by halves. She nodded to her father and mother. "Get in. They're ready for you …"

Del, Kirsten, and Zeline chanted softly, calling upon the elementals to unite and place their unique sigils of energy upon Sigurd, creating a sphere of sacred space around the birthing pool, a space protected by the elementals.

_Sacred Fire, holy water, __  
__Warm light to fill this airy hall,__  
__Nine realms are formed__  
__With our words this night__  
__Let the Bright Ones hear the call__  
__Let us call the Kindred forth_

_To join us in this watery birth!_

_From the East Sylphs of the Air, _

_From the South Salamanders flare, _

_From the West Undines of Water, _

_From North come Gnomes—the Earth's strong Daughters_

Eric and Sookie relaxed in warm water, momentarily calmed by softly chanting voices, candle flames, and the aroma of delicate incense.

Enveloped by the warm water and Eric, Sookie's pain began to subside, but she could still feel her womb contracting, rising and falling like the waves of the ocean. Eric massaged her back while she rubbed her belly gently, massaging their baby down, down. "Come down, Sigurd come down."

She spoke gently to him, feeling his leg push into her side, "I can't wait to hold you." As another contraction began, she and Eric breathed and hummed through the waves of pain together. She could feel his joy and trepidation as he massaged her through another contraction. With a deep breath, sucked in slowly and slowly released, she leaned into Eric's chest as her belly surged.

Excitement shivered in the air, danced in the flames, swirled in the waters, and pulsed in the glowing core of the heated rocks. Transparent ripples stirred the water as undines circled and darted, absorbing Sigurd's unique register. The contractions were closer, harder, and longer now, and Eric was breathing with her, willing her through each one as his niece and daughters finished their chant. They were all between the worlds now, held in a sacred space.

Dr. Ludwig reached down to swat a curious undine away, "I have to check through another contraction…breathe dear…and keep the groans low… war cries aren't good for you or the baby…and it upsets the elementals…"

Sookie panted and barely controlled her urge to yank Dr. Ludwig's probing hand from its socket.

Pulling back, Dr Ludwig removed her gloves and smiled, "You made a lot of progress with that one…"

Sookie braced herself against Eric in the warm water, looking into his eyes, and gathered her strength. His sympathy and support were palpable as he whispered, "Just let go, let your body take over…"

Sookie was in another world, humming, singing, yelling, grunting; seeing only visions of Sigurd dropping. Nothing else existed. And then she felt that familiar hot pressure—the baby's head pushing its way out.

"Sigurd," she cried, not sure if it was aloud or in her head, "Sigurd- down! Here you come, into my arms. Here you come!"

She pushed again and again, feeling the hot pressure change with each straining effort, until finally she reached down and to feel a little head. Eric reached down with her. She felt his pride, strength, and encouragement flow into her.

Dr Ludwig smiled. "One more push sweetie." Coils of light—blue, red, golden, and purest white—touched the water as elementals bound their energies to Sigurd's unique register. The water glistened and swirled.

Sookie braced herself against Eric's hard chest as the pain peaked, and then had a flash of rest between contractions. For that brief instant she perceived a brilliant presence—the white light of Sigurd's soul—an old soul who had returned to learn, grow, and share the lessons it had already learned.

The vision fled before a hard long surge—an over whelming need to push. Then, suddenly, no pain. No pressure. And baby Sigurd swam between her legs in the warm waves made by her labors.

Pam gasped; Eric wept and breathed, "Min son!" He kissed Sookie's head and whispered, "You did it. I love you. Thank you for this gift."

Sookie kissed him. "I love you too. And…thank you back…"

Sigurd shone with the rainbow energies of every element. Clear, deep blue eyes with golden glints gazed into hers. His arms reached to her and she brought him to her, his breath to her breath. Eric watched in awe, touching the infant still slick with water and birth fluids, his broad little chest, his chubby fists and fuzzy golden head—then gently took the babe from Sookie to kiss him, smell him and feel him, as the elementals sang and shimmered. Gong-like base notes rang forth from the gnomes, chimes from the salamanders, captivating sopranos and high bells from the undines and sprites.

Sigurd's sisters, Zeline, and Pam crowded round clamoring to hold him. But Sookie refused to give him up, "Give us a minute more. He's happy as a pea in a pod cuddling with us here."

The cord was still pulsing slowly as Sigurd took his first breaths and began to root at his mother's breast.

When the cord stopped pulsing, Eric cut it and presented the cord blood to Pam, to bind her to Sigurd as she had bound herself to Adele and Kirsten. Secure within their space apart, the little group passed moments in absolute happiness.

Adele watched her parents and suppressed a sigh. She hesitated to break the fragile bubble of this moment of happiness and peace. Soon Adele would open the circle, freeing the elementals and other guardians to go as they would, and Midgard and all the worlds that touched their lives would flood them with attention.

She wondered which god, or goddess would become Sigurd's patron and which beings would become his teachers-a great mage would need many wise guides throughout his life. Would one of the few remaining Mages on Midgard reveal himself and guide Sigurd? Certainly Niall and Odin had plans, which they kept close.

But she was also strong. Her only plan for to Sigurd was to protect him where she could, help him grow and teach him to express his magic in ways that would not cause him harm. Mages were targets for many forces, but very few had the supernatural patronage that Sigurd would enjoy. Del hoped it would be enough.

Mages were, overwhelmingly, healers and seekers of knowledge. There would be much to heal in his time on this earth. She was glad the elementals had chosen to bond with him willingly. He would need all of their support to complete his task for this incarnation. He must be motivated, focused, and intuitive, a good listener who could hear beyond words and see beyond outward appearances, and he would need to be flexible and able to confront himself with honesty. It was a tall order to fill. But Sigurd had chosen to be born to the Northman family; she had no doubt that it was his wyrd to fill it. She watched her little brother nursing contentedly as Zeline and Kirsten begged to hold him.

_Welcome little voyager. Your coming will inspire so many. I wish you joy and growth—slow and steady—_

And the answer came from the shining soul not quite yet merged fully with its infant body:_ I am because you are. The cycle shifts, fogs settles, people forget old lessons. _

His voice became fainter as the soul fused fully with this new incarnation. _Though__ I am frail here in my bunting,_ _there are wonders on my tongue. You must not fear greatly._ _Someday I will watch over them. __We lift the torch that others may see and find a safe path beyond wars and deceit. _

The words sent shivers up Del's spine, for they were words out of legend.

She smiled and watched the elementals dance in a nimbus around mother and child. The soul was fully bonded to its new life now, but she spoke to it anyway. _Then I will do my best to honor your trust and watch over you until you are strong enough to watch over us._

Pam smirked. "Isn't he big for a newborn?"

Eric beamed and examined his son's equipment, "He takes after his father!"

Dr. Ludwig reached in and pressed on Sookie's stomach to make sure her uterus was contracting. "Nonsense. All newborn boys look a bit …swollen but he _is _a big newborn. I wouldn't be surprised if he clocks in around ten pounds. And he's a very long baby…"

She clucked at Eric as he expanded with pride. "Not that kind of long! I'm astonished that you pushed him out so easily Sookie."

Sookie winced. "I wouldn't call it easy. There a reason it's called labor!"

Dr. Ludwig patted Sookie's hand. "You did well. He's a beautiful boy and he entered the world peacefully. That's the beauty of water births. Now; I really need you to hand him to his daddy so that we can get his vitals…"

Sigurd protested mightily and issued his first cries.

Eric smiled with joy, pride and elation as he took little Sigurd against his bare chest, "I'm sorry, min son. I feel the same way when I am deprived of móðir's breasts.

After Dr Ludwig confirmed that Sigurd was indeed ten pounds, and had checked his Apgar scores twice, she handed him back to Sookie.

"This is a very healthy and active boy!" she said, smiling as Sigurd made anxious snuffling noises till he found Sookie's breast and latched on. Turning to Adele, she added, "His register's very strong," she waved towards a hovering sprite, "as would be expected after all of this hub-bub."

She checked Sookie one more time. When mother and baby were resting comfortably, Ludwig excused her, leaving instructions to call her if there were any changes in the Sookie or Sigurd's condition.

When Sigurd was full, and drowsy, Sookie handed him back to Eric, had a bit to eat and drink, and drowsed herself, listening to the fire crackle and the soft chatter of the girls.

Kirsten stroked the baby's strong little nose and broad forehead. "No one's ever going to mistake Sigurd for a girl."

Pam snickered, "Or a Brigant Fae: this one's all boy—like his papa."

Zeline scrutinized Sigurd's broad little face. "He's handsome. I think he'll look like you, _mon oncle_."

Sigurd cracked one eyes open, pursed his little lips, and farted. Kirsten couldn't stop giggling as she changed his diaper. "How could such a little bottom make that much noise…or that much poo?"

Sookie grinned sleepily and held out her arms, "At least we know the plumbing works."

Eric shook his head, "I had forgotten how much work newborns are."

Sookie smiled and stroked the perfect curve of Sigurd's cheek, "So had I, but I wouldn't change a thing." She smiled at her niece, at Pam, and her girls. "And I have had some experience raising extraordinary children."

When Sookie was ready, Adele helped her take a shower, while Kirsten and Eric cleaned, diapered, and dressed Sigurd in a Minnesota Vikings sleeper, slipped a team cap with Northman #1 over his head, and sheathed him in booties sporting the Viking's Nordic Man logo.

Pam beamed and took a few photos on her phone. "The paparazzi have been very wary since that damned imp Ifreat. Word's gotten out that we fight back with action they'll never be able to litigate. I'll send these to the sheriffs, and start fielding calls. When would you like to do an official portrait for the press?"

Eric readjusted Sigurd, who was rooting against his chest. "In four days. Allow only one Supe photographer—Mercy Wardwell—the photographer for American Vamp and the official photographer for the Vikings—it's my team and I wish to show them my favor. Perhaps I'll name the new stadium after my son."

When Sookie and Sigurd were settled into the nursery suite's big bed, Pam poured sparkling champagne and Royalty into Waterford crystal toasting flutes and the family raised their glasses. Del offered the toast, while Sigurd focused single-mindedly on getting as much as he could out of Sookie's breasts.

"I offer the first toast in the name of the Northmans and in the name of your Brigant kin. May you be poor in misfortune, rich in blessings, slow to make enemies, and fast to make friends.? And may you know nothing but happiness from this day forward"

When everyone had left, Eric climbed in next to mother and child. The birth had been glorious, miraculous, filled with passion, joy and pain. He kissed Sigurd, warm and sleeping in his mother's arms. "Välkomnar min son! I am so very glad that you chose us to be your parents…and that you are here with us. I will do my best to guide and protect you—to help you become the man you are meant to be."

**) 0(**

Prince Niall visited the next day while Eric was tending to the business of running the kingdom of Minnesota. As far as any but his kinfolk knew, he was at his rest—a necessary deceit for the time being. Sookie and Sigurd had moved to the nursery suite, a place where bright winter sunlight streamed into an airy set of rooms.

A little fountain tinkled in the spa—a temporary home for the undines who had chosen to stay and watch over Sigurd. Soon they would return to the lakes that were their home, but they had come to bond with him.

Sookie embraced her great-great grandfather and felt the warmth of his love flow through her. She relaxed, letting all of her cares dissolve in the the absolute comfort of his presence, and handed the newborn to him.

Niall cradled Sigurd, and spoke to him silently._ You have returned from so many journeys Shining One. When you were __Taliesin, I heard you singing in Welsh valleys__. You were the greatest mage and the bard of your age._

_So many will love you, yet your sister Del could tell you that there is danger in love…in complete love…and if this love brings you to danger… it will also bring you to joy…and to necessary knowledge. Your eyes are like the sea on a sunny day…but there are depths beneath the bright surface_.

He kissed his forehead and spoke aloud. "I give you my blessing and the blessing and protection of the Fae who are your people. Well may they guide and guard you."

Then, a thoughtful smile curving his mouth, he placed Sigurd back in Sookie's arms. There was a pensive shimmer in the shadow of Niall's eyes.

She looked up at him sharply. "What is it?"

His voice was carefully neutral as if guarding a secret. "He is beautiful and very special." He touched her cheek. "Just as his mother is beautiful and very special. You must understand, dearest, that he is not as your girls. He will be strong, yes. Stronger than any but the strongest human…strong as his father was in human life…and as handsome."

"But his strength is not in his physical prowess; many supernaturals will have more physical strength. Sigurd's strength lies in the power of his magick, the power of his mind, and the strength of his soul. He will be a great healer and teacher"

He smiled reassuringly, but hid his thoughts. _This physical life can be like licking honey off a thorn. Will he summon what he has been and what he will become in time to turn the hearts and minds of the supernaturals before it is too late? Will he be able to help their spirits evolve, even as their physical bodies are evolving?_

To that Niall had no answer and there was no point in worrying Sookie as she cradled her darling little son. Instead he kissed them both and presented Sookie with a perfect rose "Like my love for you and darling Sigurd, this rose will never wither." His eyes twinkled, "And remind Eric that his son has to do his own growing—no matter how tall his father is."

)0(

Hope you enjoyed…

*hugs*


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